


The Story of Regulus Black

by wickitywhack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Bisexual Regulus Black, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, F/F, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Friends to Lovers, Good Regulus Black, Hogwarts, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mutual Pining, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), POV Regulus Black, POV Third Person, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black-centric, Severus Snape Bashing, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Slow Burn, Young James Potter, Young Lily Evans Potter, Young Peter Pettigrew, Young Regulus Black, Young Remus Lupin, Young Sirius Black, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 260,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29373558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickitywhack/pseuds/wickitywhack
Summary: Regulus Black, the youngest of the two Black brothers. Growing up in a home like Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Regulus and Sirius Black were raised to be blood purists and death eaters. However, things start to change for Regulus when his older brother leaves him for his first year at Hogwarts and gets sorted Gryffindor, breaking the Black family tradition. All of the pressure is now put onto Regulus, and he must do everything he can to uphold the Black family legacy, or else face the wrath of his parents. So, how exactly is it that Regulus Black goes from being one of the Dark Lord's most valuable supporters, to committing one final act of defiance in the hopes that he can one day be defeated? Eight years of internal turmoil and conflict that snowballed into one of the bravest and most selfless things that a human being can do.This is the story of Regulus Arcturus Black.{disclaimer: I do not support her beliefs in the slightest, but I must give character credit to JK Rowling}multi-character perspective (only for better development)long fic!!-updates everyday around 10am PST-
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black & Bartemius Crouch Jr., Regulus Black & James Potter, Regulus Black & Kreacher, Regulus Black & Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black & Narcissa Black Malfoy, Regulus Black & Original Character(s), Regulus Black & Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Severus Snape, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black/Original Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 58
Kudos: 99





	1. The Good Son

Regulus Black stood on the last stair of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. His back was straight as could be, stretching to his full height. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and he was watching with eager eyes while his brother straightened his spine and stared up at their father.

Orion Black looked at his son, stone faced. Sirius Black rolled his shoulders back and stared zelously at his father.

Regulus was quite nervous about the interaction that would follow - it was common knowledge within the Black family that Orion and Sirius didn't exactly get along. Regulus held his breath as Orion Black reached out his hand.

Orion clapped a firm hand onto Sirius's shoulder, and both brothers let out the breath that they had been holding in unison.

"Make us proud." Orion said simply, staring down at Sirius with fire and determination in his eyes.

"Yes father," muttered Sirius.

He shook Orion's hand from his shoulder and turned away. Sirius met eyes with his brother, and the two stared at each other in silence for a few brief moments.

Sirius's face broke into a wide grin, and he hurried over to his little brother. His shoulders were slumped the second that he had broken the gaze with their father, and he was back to his normal, slouchy posture.

Sirius stopped at the foot of the stairs, staring excitedly into the grey eyes of his little brother. "Aw, c'mon Reggie, don't be sad," Sirius said, his grin faltering for the briefest of moments.

Regulus winced at the nickname from his big brother, but ignored it. "Come on Reg, I'll be back! It's only a year! That's a year you get away from this old tosser, huh?" Sirius gestured to himself, and Regulus let out the faintest of laughs.

Suddenly, his face turned to stone, and his eyes darted between his two parents. They were immersed in a whispered conversation, and weren't even looking in the direction of the boys. Regulus leaned closer to his brother, who was at level height with him, even with the extra inches that the stair gave to Regulus.

"Please don't leave," he pleaded, shooting another glance at his parents, specifically his father.

Sirius's expression softened, and he reached out a hand and laid it gently on his little brother's arm. "Reggie, it's only a year. I'll be back for Christmas, and I'll write to you everyday if you want me to!" he too, sent a fleeting glance at the two Black parents. "Just please try to stay out of trouble, eh? You know father has had a sensitive temper since... well, just please try to keep out of their way?" these words came out as just above a breath, and Regulus felt the hair on his arms stand up.

"Ok," Regulus said, straightening his spine once again as his parents sauntered over to them. "I promise."

Sirius's expression changed to one of utmost pleasure, and he held out his hand. Regulus unclasped his hands, which were still held steady behind his back, and took his brothers hand.

Affection was never really a big thing in the Black family. Orion and Walburga Black both implemented the fact that affection was seen as weak by others, ever since the boys were mere children. Therefore, the boys rarely ever hugged each other, especially not in front of their parents.

Those were just the ways of the Black family.

Regulus watched as his brother grabbed his trunk and held a tight grip on it. Walburga Black placed a hand on her sons shoulder, and both watched as Orion took Sirius out of the front door. With a loud _CRACK!_ , Regulus knew that they were gone.

Sirius never did come back for Christmas.

He wanted Sirius there. He wanted to lash out. To scream, to hit him, to cry to him about just how alone he felt. He wanted to walk up to him and wail.

_How could you do that to me?! How could you get sorted to Gryffindor! I need you! I NEED YOU! How am I supposed to do this alone?!_

Deep down, however, if Regulus thought back to the day that the two brothers had said goodbye on the stairs of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he knew. He could see it in the way that his eyes glinted, the way they went from that grey haze to a brilliant blue.

Hogwarts was what was best for Sirius.

And Regulus wanted nothing but the best for his brother.

He would have to hate him. He knew it. He knew it from the moment that his mother had discovered what had happened to Sirius.

Regulus was in his bedroom, propped up on one elbow and desperately trying to concentrate on the text in front of him. He was so worried about his brother, and what would become of Regulus in his absence, that he was having a hard time focusing on anything.

That's when the banging began. Regulus practically jumped out of his skin, sending the book flying to the floor.

" _ARGHHHHHHH_!" Walburga Black shrieked from the library.

Regulus could feel his heart beat in his throat, and he frantically looked around the room. For a split second, when he heard his mother bursting with anger, he forgot that Sirius was away, experiencing his first year at Hogwarts. He looked around for his big brother, the one who always protected him from the wrath of their parents anger.

Regulus remembered back to the countless times that his brother - his protector - had saved him from being hurt by his parents. Had stepped between Regulus and Walburga or Orion Black, had taken whatever punishment they had onto himself. He suddenly remembered that his brother was away, and wouldn't be there to protect him this time.

This time, he had to protect himself.

Regulus snuck over to his bedroom door and cracked it open, just enough to be able to press his ear to the crack and hear better. No sooner had he pressed his ear to the crack in the door, then he heard one of the wall-height book cases crashing to the ground.

Suddenly, the shrieking, banging, thudding, and miniature explosions paused. Regulus could feel dread creeping through his veins, but he fought as hard as he could to suppress it. He squared his shoulders when he heard Walburga's stomping footsteps coming up the stairs towards his room, and he took a deep - yet shaky - breath.

He wanted to be brave like Sirius.

" _REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK_!" Walburga burst into his room, nearly knocking into him. Her face was bright red with fury, and he felt as though steam should've been pouring from her ears.

"Yes, mother?" Regulus struggled to keep his voice steady.

Walburga's temper seemed to dial itself down, if only just temporarily. She squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw, suppressing the hatred that was trying ever-so-desperately to take over her eyes.

"You are the good son. You always have been, and you will continue to be. You will uphold the Black family legacy. You will take over for your disgusting excuse of a brother. You will be sorted to Slytherin. Am I understood?"

Regulus felt a lump rise in his throat. Sirius hadn't been sorted to Slytherin?

"Yes, mother. Of course." He said thickly.

She nodded, pleased by the answer, and stormed out of the room within seconds. She used her wand to slam the door shut, and the little bit of dust that had gathered itself on the ceiling above his door fell freely and swirled through the air.

From that moment on, Regulus knew that things in his family would be changed forever.


	2. The Summer of 1972

The months following 1 September, 1971 were packed full of extra lessons for Regulus. Coming from a pure blood-line like the Blacks, Regulus and Sirius were taught from a very young age by their parents. These subjects ranged from manners, to proper situational etiquette, to ball room dancing.

However, with the new revelation of Sirius's sorting came the new lessons. Walburga and Orion spent countless hours of the week pushing the ideas of blood purity into Regulus's mind. They had always, of course, mentioned the importance of this to their sons. However, it was made very clear to their parents that Sirius never fully learned his lesson on the subject. So, they worked tirelessly to engrave these ideals into the mind of their youngest son.

They taught him all about how pure-bloods are better at magic than half-bloods and muggle-borns (or, as they would refer to them as, mudbloods). They taught him that he would always be better than the people with a lower blood status than him. He was given in depth lessons on the pure-blood families that Regulus should avoid - the ones who were blood traitors.

They carved the ideas that Sirius was oh-so against into Regulus's head. They taught him that his brother, being sorted into such an awful house as Gryffindor, was no different than a blood traitor.

Regulus was taught to hate his brother.

And so, by the time that June of 1972 came around, Regulus was doing everything possible to avoid any sort of interaction with his brother, while Walburga and Orion Black pretended that Sirius wasn't there at all. This made for a very lonely summer for both of the Black brothers, but neither could really do anything about it.

Sirius spent most of his time locked away in his room, writing to his blood-traitor and mudblood friends. He only came out of his room for meals, and to leave the house every once in awhile.

Regulus, meanwhile, found a small corner in the attic of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to be quite comforting. He would sit here for hours and watch the clouds dance about in the sky, reading books that he would nick from his mother's library.

On this particular summers day, Regulus was reading a book titled _Secrets of the Darkest Art_. It was quite a dark book, as to be expected, and made Regulus quite squeamish. However, he didn't want to leave the safety of his little attic nook, so he kept reading - skipping over the parts that made him particularly queasy.

It was while he was skipping a section about something titled a _"Horcrux"_ , when the attic door opened. Regulus was quick to hide the book, afraid that it was his mother coming to reprimand him for taking the book from her library. He shoved the book underneath the dark-green blanket that was draped over his knees.

However, Walburga Black was not the one to enter the library, instead, it was Sirius. He walked in and shut the door behind him, smiling sheepishly at his little brother. Regulus kept the book hidden, afraid that Sirius would yell at him if he saw what he was reading.

"Hey, Reggie, what'rya up to?" Sirius asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Nothing," Regulus mumbled, looking at his knees and studying the intricate pattern with which the blanket was sewn.

"Well - uh - just wanted to see what you were up to," he paused, staring at his brothers pale, boyish face. "Haven't really seen you around much."

"Yeah, there's a reason for that," Regulus said, breaking his eyes away from the blanket that was covering him and meeting the eyes of his brother. Regulus hadn't gotten a good look at his brother since the day that he had left for Hogwarts.

Sirius's hair had grown longer, shaggier, and hung freely just above his shoulders. His boyish-features had become sharper and more defined. He looked older.

The greatest change that Regulus noticed, however, were his eyes. They were a healthy mixture of grey and blue, something that Regulus hadn't seen from his brother in years. Although, Sirius's eyes had been particularly blue the day that he left for Hogwarts; but Regulus knew that that was because of the excitement that he held for finally being allowed to leave the confines of Number 12 Grimmauld Place for more than a single day.

"Well - er - how have you been?" Sirius took a few awkward steps forward. Regulus could see the contemplation behind his eyes, trying to decide whether he wanted to sit next to his little brother.

"Fine," Regulus lay his hands in his lap over the blanket and put his full focus on his fingers. The skin around his finger nails was torn, and there were several small scabs where the skin that he was ripping got too far down his fingers. His nails themselves were quite short, from the mixture of him biting them, and also ripping them from anxiousness.

Sirius decided against sitting down, and watched his brother with a soft expression. He knew that Regulus would often rip away the skin around his nails when he was anxious or scared, but Sirius had helped him break the habit. Sirius was suddenly overcome with an immense feeling of guilt, but he pushed the feeling out of his head to attempt holding a conversation with Regulus.

"So - erm - do you wanna hear about Hogwarts?" he knew that the only thing he could really talk to Reg about at the moment was Hogwarts, seeing as it was the one thing that he knew Regulus was still immensely excited for.

Regulus looked up at him with a hopeful look in his eyes, and he nodded quite vigorously.

Sirius's sheepish smile broke into a wide grin, and he rushed over to sit against the wall a few feet from his brother. "Oh, Reg, it's great! The food is amazing, and the teachers are excellent! Well, apart from ol' Sluggy, he's a little questionable, but the rest are so nice! And Dumbledore! Oh, Reg, he's brilliant!"

"What about the common room?" Regulus asked. He didn't really want to hear about the common room, he just needed confirmation that his brother had, indeed, been sorted out of Slytherin.

"It's brilliant! It's warm, _much_ warmer than this old place, and it's so bright! There's this group of seats in front of the fire place that my friends and I always sit in, oh Reg, my friends are great! I think you'll really like them! There's Remus Lupin, and this little guy named Peter Pettigrew, and my best mate, James Potter! There's also Li-"

"Potter?" Regulus asked, a disgusted look creeping onto his face. "The blood traitor's son?"

Sirius looked quite taken aback from this statement, and he eyed his brother carefully. "So, that's what they've been teaching you while I was gone? Trying to have one son who isn't a disgrace to the _Noble House of Black_?"

Regulus was silent at this, for he wasn't necessarily sure what to say. "So," he began, trying to draw the conversation back to Sirius's house, "Potter got sorted Slytherin? I'm sure his parents are right disappointed."

Sirius gave Regulus an unreadable look. "Reg, I didn't get sorted Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor. Mother and father didn't tell you?"

Regulus felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he closed his eyes, trying desperately to remain emotionless. "I thought they were lying, or that they had been mistaken. I didn't think that you would ever - that you - could ever-" Regulus stopped speaking, afraid that if he continued his voice would crack and the tears would begin flowing.

Sirius looked at his brother and slowly started to inch closer to the corner that Regulus was curled up in. "Reggie-"

"Don't call me that!" Regulus snapped, pressing further into the corner so as to put more distance between he and his brother.

"Regulus..." Sirius trailed off, trying to come up with the words that might come as a comfort to his younger brother. "Gryffindor isn't bad! Mother and father just want you to think it is because Slytherin is full of a bunch of stupid blood purists! There's a girl in my year, and she's a muggle-born, and she's brilliant! The smartest one in our year! Really, it doesn't matter! When you get sorted in a few months, maybe you can get Gryffindor too! You can meet my friends, and you can be in our little group! We're working on a map of the castle right now, and it'll be brilliant! You can help!" he looked pleadingly at his brother.

"No," Regulus muttered, keeping his eyes closed. "If this is how much Hogwarts is going to change you, then I - I don't want to go!" Regulus suddenly stood up from the corner, knocking the blanket off of himself.

The blanket covered the book that he was reading nonetheless, so Sirius stayed blissfully oblivious of what his brother had been reading about. Years from now, when thinking back on this conversation, Regulus would wonder what might've gone differently if he had allowed Sirius to see the book instead of hiding it.

But that's neither here nor there.

"Reg, I promise, it's-"

"Stop!" Regulus stopped in the middle of the attic and whipped around to face Sirius. "Why couldn't you just be sorted Slytherin like the rest of the family?! Do you know what mother and father have been saying about you since you left?!"

Sirius was standing now, too, and he stared into the icy grey eyes of his brother. This was the first time that he had noticed just how much Regulus had grown; he and Sirius were almost at eye level now.

"They say that you're a blood traitor!" Regulus continued, swinging his arms this way and that to emphasize his points. "That you hang out with mudbloods now!"

"Don't say that word!" Sirius shouted.

"Why not? Huh? It's what they are! Mother and father have been teaching me about it for the past year, and they're right! Muggles and mudbloods are horrible! They're disgraces to the wizarding world! They're-" but Regulus was suddenly cut off.

Sirius had drawn his wand from the waistband of his pants, and was pointing it at Regulus's face. "Take it back," he snarled.

Regulus's eyes darted from his brothers eyes - which had turned a cold shade of grey - to the tip of his wand. His hands dropped to his sides, and he shook his head while slowly backing towards the door. "No."

"I said," Sirius took a few quick steps forward, pushing Regulus against the attic door and pressing his wand roughly into Regulus's throat, directly to the side of his windpipe. "Take. It. Back."

Regulus choked on the words that seemed to be caught in his throat, and he stared at his brother in fear. Would he really hex him? Had Hogwarts changed him that much?

Recognizing the look of genuine fear in Regulus's eyes made Sirius realize that he had taken the argument too far, and he promptly dropped his wand and backed away.

"So I was right," he shook his head and looked his brother up and down; it was as though he were seeing him in a brand new light. "Mother and father have been teaching you lies. I assume they've been telling you to hate me, huh? Am I right? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"They're not lies," Regulus choked out, his voice rough from the pressure that had been pressed against the side of his windpipe.

"But they are! You'll see! When you come to Hogwarts and learn the truth! You'll-"

"This is the truth! They're _lying to you_! They're trying to get you to be on their side when the war starts! They don't want you knowing the truth! The man that father talked about last year? He's right! His ideas, they're right! _You're wrong_! They're all wrong! Everyone at that stupid school-"

"No, Regulus, you're wrong! Merlin, I don't even know who you are anymore!"

"I'm the same person I've always been! You're the one who's different! You're the one who's changed!"

"Yeah, maybe I have changed! But it's for the better, Reg!"

"No it's not!" Tears were falling freely down Regulus's pale cheeks.

"Reg, I promise you, when you come to Hogwarts, you'll realize the truth! And I can help! My friends and I, we can-"

" _I don't want to hang out with you and your stupid mudblood friends_!" Regulus bellowed.

Regulus could see a look of anger and hatred swirling behind his brothers eyes. He knew that if the argument kept going, eventually their parents would hear, and they would come up and punish both of the boys. So, Regulus said the one thing that he knew would end it.

"You aren't my brother," he reached for the handle to the attic door, which he was still standing directly in front of, "you're nothing but a good-for-nothing blood traitor."

He hastened to leave the room, not wanting to see the look in his brother's eyes after the words had escaped his mouth. Regulus rushed down the stairs and darted into his room, shutting the door behind him before Sirius could process a response.

Now in the confines of his own room, Regulus threw himself face-down onto his bed and buried his face into his pillows. His entire body racked with sobs as the words that he had said echoed through his mind. It was truly the worst thing that he could've said to his brother.

But he had already said it - and there was no taking it back now.


	3. Hawthorn Wood and Unicorn Hair

Following their argument in the attic, Regulus and Sirius didn't speak a single word to one another.

For this reason, the rest of the summer was spent in isolation for both of the Black brothers. Sirius only left his room a handful of times for the rest of the summer, mostly so that he could leave the house and spend time in the small square across the street; he had taken to having the Black family house elf, Kreacher, bring him food everyday.

Regulus stayed in his room for most of the day; he didn't want to go back up to the attic in case Sirius had the same idea. He would, of course, still go down to the kitchen everyday for meals with his mother and father, but this was the furthest he was willing to go from his room.

A majority of the days that Regulus spent locked in his room were quite boring. He would lay about all over his bedroom, either reading or taking naps in precarious places. Every once in a while, he would play a game of Exploding Snaps or Gobstones with Kreacher, but this was quite a rare occurrence.

On the evening of 30 August, Regulus was sitting on his bed twisting his wand through his hands, admiring it. He had been doing this since he got it the day before; he just couldn't seem to put it down.

His parents, however, seemed quite alarmed by the wand that Regulus was given. Orion had gone as far as to say that Ollivander was wrong, but he eventually ceded (quite reluctantly), because he had "other business" to attend to.

12 inches, Hawthorn wood, with a Unicorn Hair core.

He stopped twisting it and ran his finger along the lines that snaked around the base of his wand around the handle.

_"Hawthorn wands are quite adept at curses," Mr. Ollivander had explained when the wand had chosen Regulus, "but they are quite good at healing magic." Mr. Ollivander gave Orion and Walburga a glance, as if he were trying to be sure that they were not listening._

_"Rather interesting that you should get this wand," he continued, once he was sure that the Black parents were thoroughly distracted by their whispered conversation._

_"Why?" Regulus asked, handing the wand back to Ollivander so he could box it up._

_"Well, Hawthorn wood is typically given to wizards who are going through an internal turmoil. Maybe they're... questioning, something. Hawthorn wands feel quite at home with conflicted wizards, wizards who, for example, are trying to discover who they believe they really are." He said all of this in a hushed tone, not wanting to Orion Black another reason to get angry, for he had already yelled at the wand-maker quite heavily, insisting that the wand was "wrong"._

_Regulus didn't fully understand why his father was so angry about the properties of the wand. Yes, Regulus was quite conflicted at the moment, but why was that a bad thing? He just didn't know what to do about his brother. He wanted so desperately to be close with Sirius again, but he also didn't want his parents to be angry with him for speaking to his "blood traitor brother"._

_"And Unicorn Hair... very peculiar for a Black..." Ollivander continued, though he was talking under his breath now, as though he were saying it to himself._

_"Why?" Regulus asked, still quite curious about the wand that he was given, and why it infuriated his father so much._

_"Well, my boy, Unicorn Hair wands are quite... loyal, to their owners. They tend to produce the most consistent magic, and... well... they're the hardest to turn to Dark Arts."_

_The hardest to turn to Dark Arts._

Regulus had been contemplating these words since he had first received his wand. Why had he been given a wand that was difficult to turn to the Dark Arts? His entire family was full of members who practiced the Dark Arts, and he was going to be just like them. He wanted to be just like them.

So why?

It was while he was contemplating this, that he heard a knock on his door. Expecting it to be his mother or father, he quickly set the wand down on his bedside table and cleared his throat, straightening his spine and rolling his shoulders back. "Come in," he said.

The door opened slowly, creaking quietly. "Oh," Regulus said when he saw who it really was, "it's you." He slumped his back, returning to the slight-slouch that came with his natural posture.

Sirius stepped inside, looking rather awkward and out of place. During the very short amount of time that Walburga Black had spent speaking to her son, she had forced him to sit still in the dining room while she cut his hair. During the haircut, she kept muttering to herself about how "if he's going to be the family disappointment, the least he can do is keep up a good and pristine image" as well as a string of words that Sirius couldn't really piece together, which consisted of "blood traitor", "disowned", "mudbloods", and "Gryffindor".

So, it was quite a shock to Regulus when he saw that the shaggy shoulder-length hair that Sirius had come back with was gone, and the brothers now had near identical haircuts. Of course, Regulus's hair was naturally more curly than his brother's, so there was always a difference.

"Hey, Reg," Sirius said awkwardly, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through his hair - Regulus recognized this as a sort of stress-induced movement that Sirius often did when he was uncomfortable or didn't know what else to do with his hands. "I just - er - I know that we haven't really talked since I got back from school. And I know why, and everything, obviously, because we got into a fight because mother and father have been brain washing you and-" his voice was getting quieter and quieter the longer he talked, as if he were now speaking to himself instead of Regulus.

"What do you want?" Regulus asked, snapping him out of whatever head space he had just gone into.

Sirius cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I just - well, I just wanted to say that I'm excited for you to come to Hogwarts. I know that you really don't want to get put into Gryffindor, but I hope that you do. And-" Sirius cut Regulus off, noticing the signs that Regulus was about to cut into the conversation, "I know that you think it's awful, full of blood traitors and all that.

"But, Reg, I promise it's not. It's wonderful! The people are just, well, Reg, they're great. I've mentioned some of my friends to you but they're just... well, they're amazing. I just, I know that you really don't want to talk about this, and that you probably really don't want to talk to me, but I just wanted to say that I hope you get put into Gryffindor. I want to be brothers again, Reg... please..."

Regulus had forced a scowl onto his face while Sirius had been talking, but it quickly softened and melted away. "Really? What if I got put into Slytherin, though? Would you... would you still want to be brothers again then?"

Sirius thought for a moment, and Regulus noticed that he was scuffing the tip of his trainer against the hardwood floor. "I... I think so. I don't know, Reg. I just... I really didn't want to come back this summer, alright? I wanted to stay at the school, or go to one of my mates house's for the summer. I really didn't want to come back, because I knew how mother and father would react. I was... I was scared.

"But, I came back anyways. Do you want to know why I came back, Reg?"

"Because you had to." Regulus responded, knowing that there was little chance that Sirius would ever be allowed to leave Grimmauld Place, not until he came of age.

"Well... yeah, I guess... but, that's not the main reason. I came back for you, Reg. I want to... I wanted to make sure you were ok. I wanted to try to... to change your mind about... things."

Regulus scoffed. "Things? You mean you wanted to make me a good-for-nothing blood traitor, too?"

Regulus noticed a flash of hurt in his eyes, but he quickly hid it and continued on. "I just want you to be safe, Reggie. And the path that you're taking... the one that mother and father are putting you down... it's dangerous. It's really, really dangerous."

Regulus was silent a moment, and Sirius recognized the look of contemplation on Regulus's face. Whenever he was thinking very, very hard about something, his brows would furrow and he would scrunch his nose just the tiniest little bit.

"I'll leave you alone now. I just... I wanted you to at least think about it. Please." Sirius turned and walked out of the door, which had been slightly ajar the whole time.

Regulus watched his brother's retreating back, and he thought about everything that his brother had told him. What did he know about how dangerous things were? He's only a year older! How could he possibly know!

_The hardest to turn to Dark Arts._

The old wand-makers words echoed through Regulus's mind again, and a shiver traveled up his spine as he glanced at his wand. Maybe... just maybe...

But his thoughts were cut off when he heard a shriek echoing through the house. He hurriedly grabbed his wand from the nightstand and rushed out the door, staring over the edge of the landing to see if he could see what was happening.

" _HOW DARE YOU LISTEN TO A PRIVATE CONVERSATION_!" Walburga Black shrieked, and Regulus knew that, based off of the volume and direction, it was coming from the library.

He rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and reached the library landing to see Sirius sprawled out on the ground. Walburga was staring at him with a look of utter fury from over her husbands shoulder, and Orion was practically fuming with his wand pointed at Sirius's chest. Regulus ducked out of their line of sight and stepped onto the first step of the tall staircase, crouching down low and glancing into the library.

"Think it's funny to listen in on our conversations, do you?" Orion snarled, taking three quick steps closer to Sirius's form on the ground.

"I wasn't listening! I was going to the kitchen!" Sirius said, staring at his father with a look of fear in his eyes.

"You dare lie to me, boy?"

"I'm not lying!" Sirius gathered all of his strength and stood up, squaring his shoulders and staring at his father. The look of fear melted from his face, and turned to a look of defiance within seconds. "What attack?"

Regulus was quite taken aback by the sudden change in topic, and nearly let out an audible gasp, which would have given away his position for sure.

Orion Black tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "None. Of. Your. Business," his face was practically purple with fury.

"Maybe... maybe it's Dumbledore's business. I'm sure he'd like to know about it."

Regulus's jaw dropped and his eyes widened; talking back to their father like that, it was practically a death wish!

"Think that's funny, do you?" Orion snarled, and then he allowed a twisted smile to creep onto his face. "I'll show you something funny, boy. _CRUCIO_!"

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the rungs of the staircase so tightly that his knuckles were white. Sirius dropped to the floor and let out a gut-wrenching scream. Regulus's whole body seemed to tremble, and he opened his eyes to see Sirius writhing in pain on the floor - his screams filled the house.

What was even more sickening to Regulus - Orion was _laughing_.

After what felt like an absolute eternity to Regulus - but had, in reality, been mere seconds - he couldn't take it anymore.

"STOP IT!" He screamed, unfolding his legs from their crouching position and rushing into the library. " _STOP_!"

A shocked expression came over Orion Black's face, which was just enough to distract him from the curse. Sirius stayed twitching on the ground, and Orion watched as Regulus dropped to his knees beside his brother.

"Regulus. Leave." Orion said, lifting his chin and staring down his nose at the two brothers.

" _NO_! You're hurting him!" Regulus cried, watching as his brother's muscles seemed to spasm beneath his skin.

"His acts can not go unpunished, Regulus. If you do not leave, you'll be next. Now get. Out."

Regulus was about to protest when Sirius choked out a word. "Go," his voice was shaky, and he looked at Regulus with resolution.

"No! Siri-" he started to protest, but Sirius cut him off.

"Reg, go, I can take it."

Regulus looked at his brother for a few more moments, and then looked up at his father. Orion was still visibly furious, and he had his wand pointed at both boys. Hesitantly, Regulus got to his feet and picked up his wand - which he had flung down onto the floor of the library in his haste to get to Sirius.

He took one last look at his brother before turning around and rushing out of the library. He heard the door slam shut behind him as he thundered up the stairs, bursting into his room. He threw his wand down on his nightstand and jumped onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow.

It felt like hours until Sirius's screams from the library finally ceased. Regulus was sitting on his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around his legs. He was rocking himself gently back and forth, his eyes rimmed in red, giving the occasional sniffle.

_The hardest to turn to Dark Arts._

_I came back for you, Reg._

_I want to be brothers again._

Regulus continued to rock himself, listening to the silence that filled Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The moon shone brightly outside, beaming down into Regulus's room. The dust motes were illuminated in the beam of light, and gave the appearance of hundreds of tiny white specks floating through the air.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and thought about the things that Sirius had told him, about how he hoped Regulus would be sorted Gryffindor. What frightened Regulus the most - what he knew no one within these walls could ever discover - was that, for a moment, no matter how brief, he had _considered it_.

He imagined himself sitting in the Gryffindor common room, in one of those chairs in front of the fire place that Sirius told him about. Imagined Sirius helping him with his homework. Imagined wandering the halls at night and playing jokes on people with his brother and his friends. _Friends_. He imagined having friends.

However, the harsh reality of the situation had been presented to him in the form of his brothers gut-wrenching screams that filled every crevice of the house. He knew that a similar fate would await him from his father if he wasn't sorted Slytherin.

So, he laid back on his bed and spread his limbs across the dark-green duvet, and let his imagination slip away.

_Homework by the fire with Sirius. Joking with Sirius and his friends. Wandering the halls of the castle together. Laughing. Smiling._

It all slipped away, and Regulus was left with nothing but the harsh reality. He would have to do what his parents wanted him to. Would have to be sorted Slytherin, would have to become dark, just like his family was.

For, if he didn't, if he followed in Sirius's footsteps, he was terrified of what his parents would do. And he was just a little more terrified of his parents than he was hopeful about Sirius. So, he let all of the images slip from his mind, let them fly through the air, imagined them as the little dust motes that were swirling through the air.

He got up, walked towards the window, and closed the curtains; the dust motes disappeared, along with the beam of moonlight.

He was engulfed by nothing but utter darkness.


	4. Remus Lupin

Walburga Black had her hands planted firmly on Regulus's shoulders, leading him through the bustling crowd of people that filled Platform 9 ¾. Orion was standing next to Walburga and just behind Sirius, keeping a close eye on him. The family of Blacks stopped in an empty pocket on the platform, and Regulus and Sirius both turned around to face their parents.

"Remember what I said, Regulus." Walburga said in a warning tone, eyeing her son carefully.

"Yes mother." Regulus murmured, clasping his hands behind his back and looking anxiously at his mother.

"Good. And... you. Try not to shame the name of Black anymore than you already have." Walburga sneered at Sirius, staring down at him from the end of her pointed nose.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sirius said in a sarcastic tone, and Regulus side-eyed him to see the smug look on his face.

Walburga reached for her wand, but Orion quickly caught her hand. "We don't need to give the Ministry even more of a reason to watch us, Walburga," he used his head to gesture discreetly towards the man that both of the Black parents knew as Bartemius Crouch, the head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry.

Reluctantly, Walburga drew her hand away from her wand and lifted her chin, looking back at her sons. "Have a good year, Regulus. Be a _good_ example of who the Blacks _really_ are."

"Oh, come on, you can't expect him to just torture students left and right, can you? Mighty high expectations you're setting for the little blighter." Sirius said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Sirius Orion Black," Orion said, his voice filled with hatred. Regulus saw him instinctively reach for his wand, but he quickly drew his hand away. "How dare you speak to us like that. Never have I been more humiliated to have my name attached to someone so... despicable."

Sirius scoffed. "You act like I _chose_ my middle name."

"Sirius," Regulus muttered under his breath, recognizing the haughty attitude that Sirius was exerting.

Sirius, recognizing the fear that lilted his little bothers voice, immediately stopped speaking. Orion seemed pleased by this, but he still stared with utter hatred at his oldest son.

"Make us proud, Regulus," Orion said, staring squarely into Sirius's eyes.

"Yes, father." Regulus said, turning his head so that he was staring up at Orion.

Orion Black continued to sneer down at Sirius, until a wave of smoke billowed from the crimson train, filling the platform. "Have fun in _Slytherin_ , Regulus." Walburga said as a goodbye, emphasizing the word _"Slytherin"_ to get her intentions fully into her sons mind.

"Yes mother, I will," with that, both brothers turned around and pushed their trollies along the platform, away from the looming figures that were the Black parents.

They were silent as they weaved their way through the crowd of sniveling parents, until Regulus felt that they were a safe distance from Orion and Walburga.

"Why must you always _push_ them?" Regulus asked.

"What are you talking about, Reg? I do nothing of the sort," but Regulus could hear the smile as he said the words.

He sighed and stared down at the trunk that was being pushed around on his trolly, his eyes roving along the tiny indented lines in the leather. "They hurt you because you talk back," he muttered.

"They're going to hurt me anyways. Family disappointment, remember?"

But Regulus didn't laugh. Quite the opposite, actually, he felt tears prickling his icy grey eyes. "Why couldn't you just be sorted Slytherin like the rest of us?"

Sirius suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at his brother with a meaningful expression. "Because. I don't want to be like mother and father. You've seen how they treat us, their own _sons_! They're dark wizards, Reg, and I want to be as little like them as I possibly can be."

Regulus met his brothers eyes for the briefest of moments, but promptly turned back to his trunk. He brought his fist up to his face and roughly rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "But you don't know what it's like."

"What what's like? Being the blunt end of mother and father's wrath? I've been doing it for 12 years, Reg." he smiled sadly at his brother, and they both continued on through the platform.

"I mean... being alone with them. It's..." he trailed off, not wanting to relive the horrid memories that came with the months that followed Sirius's sorting. Orion and Walburga Black had been so furious that their son had been sorted Gryffindor, so intent that, if they didn't teach him, Regulus would follow the same path.

A shiver ran up Regulus's spine at the mere thought.

"Reg, what happened while I was away?" Sirius's voice was full of concern.

Regulus shook his head and sniffled, rolling his shoulders back and gaining back his _Noble House of Black_ posture (as he and Sirius used to call it). "Nothing."

"Reg-" but Sirius stopped talking quite suddenly, and a huge grin spread across his face as he spotted a familiar boy on the platform. "REMUS!" he bellowed, and took off running - pushing the trolly all the same - towards a rather tall boy.

Regulus stopped and watched from a few yards away as his brother leaped over the trolly and flung himself on the boy. The other boy looked quite surprised by the gesture, but quickly embraced Sirius back. Sirius released the boy and held him at arms length, a smile playing on his face.

"How was your summer?" Sirius asked.

Regulus stood awkwardly while the boy jumped into a rather in-depth play-by-play of his summer. Suddenly, the boy stopped talking and looked curiously at Regulus, then back to Sirius. Sirius, following the boy's gaze, met the eyes of his little brother.

"Oh! Right, Remus, this is Regulus, my ickle brother. Regulus, this is Remus Lupin. I mentioned him at the beginning of the summer." Sirius gestured for Regulus to come closer, which he did rather reluctantly.

Regulus's eyes roved over the boy named Remus Lupin. He was wearing a pair of blue pipe jeans with a white button down. He had curly light brown hair, and his eyes were a a shade of chocolate brown.

However, the thing that Regulus noticed first about the boy, were the scars that littered his body; from the little time that he had spent analyzing the boy's appearance, he had noticed several. He had two short scars on the left side of his jaw, which were just the most noticeable from where Regulus was.

"Nice to meet you," Remus said, holding out a hand for Regulus to shake.

Regulus reached out and hesitantly shook the boy's hand, his eyes roving over the tiny scars that covered it.

"Do you know where the others are?!" Sirius asked Remus, as though his excitement were about to bubble over the edge.

"No, you're the first one I've seen," Remus said, withdrawing his hand from Regulus and turning to Sirius.

Regulus watched the two boys talk for a few seconds, feeling extremely out of place. Regulus tentatively backed away from the boys, pulling his trolly with him. He wandered through the sea of people, getting pushed and shoved left and right. Finally, he made it to the space on the platform where the students were required to leave their trunks.

He left his trolly there and pulled a black bag - which was embroidered with the Black family crest - from the trolly and swung it over his shoulder. He glanced around the platform, wondering if he should go back to his brother or board the train alone.

"Excuse me," said a rather small boy with blonde hair. He was almost the same height as Regulus (which, granted, was not that tall to begin with) and had a lanky frame.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" Regulus asked, taking a few steps to the side so that the boy could push his trolly to the place where they loaded luggage.

"It's ok," the boy said, grabbing a bag from his cart and swinging it over his shoulder. "I'm Barty."

"Regulus."

"Nice to meet you. Are you a first year, too?"

"Yeah!" Regulus was suddenly quite excited, having found another first year. 

"Do you wanna get a compartment together?" Barty asked, nodding towards the river of students that were streaming onto the train.

"Sure!"

The two boys joined the students heading onto the express, and found themselves directly in front of none other than Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Barty glanced at Sirius and then turned back to Regulus.

"He looks like you, are you related?" Barty asked, and Regulus looked over his shoulder to who he was speaking about.

"Oh, yeah, that's my brother," Regulus turned to face forward again.

"Who's he with? Why does he have all those scars?"

Regulus shrugged, "Dunno. I just met him today. His name is something funny like Raymond or Remoos."

"Huh, weird."

The two boys managed to find a compartment to themselves, and promptly sat across from each other on the upholstery-covered benches.

"Are you excited?" Barty asked.

"Yeah! I'm gonna be in Slytherin house and I'm gonna be a great wizard, just like my parents. What about you?"

"Dad wants me to be Ravenclaw," Barty shrugged and licked his lips.

"Oh," Regulus was disappointed; he didn't want to be separated from the only friend he'd managed to make! "You should be in Slytherin. All the best witches and wizards have come from Slytherin! I come from a really long line of Slytherin's, except for my brother, but he's a dolt."

"My dad would be right pissed if I got Slytherin."

"Why? It's the best house there is!"

"He's head of Magical Law Enforcement. Barty Crouch? Anyways, he really doesn't like Slytherin."

"Oh. Well, I hope you get put in Slytherin anyways."

"Yeah, Slytherin sounds like it would be great."

"I thought you said your dad hates it?"

"That's what makes it so great!" Barty grinned and licked his lips again.

Regulus grinned back. The boys talked for a majority of the train ride, speaking all about what they were excited for at Hogwarts. Regulus was most excited for Flying class, and Barty said he was most excited for Transfiguration.

Regulus couldn't help but smile at his prospects for the following years to come. Hadn't even made it to Hogwarts, and he _already_ had a new best mate! So what if Regulus didn't get to see Sirius much around school, at least he had _someone_ to hang out with now!

Regulus thought that he may have never been this excited in his whole life. And things could only get better from here!


	5. The Sorting of Regulus Black

The students poured out of the express onto the platform at Hogsmeade station. It was already quite dark out, and students all around the platform were admiring the beauty of the small wizard village. Barty and Regulus stepped off of the express, their bags flung over their shoulders as they looked 'round the busy platform.

Regulus was staring at the lamp posts that were dotted throughout the platform, watching the small bugs that were circling in the small pockets of light. "Hey, do you know where we're supposed to go?" Barty asked, breaking Regulus's attention from the tiny bugs.

"Huh? Oh, no, not really," both boys glanced around, looking for any other students who may be able to direct them to where they were supposed to be going.

Suddenly, a boy bumped into Regulus, causing him to stumble a few inches ahead of where he had been standing originally. "Oh, sorry!" the boy said, reaching out an arm to help steady Regulus.

Regulus shook the boys hand away and stood up straight, glaring at him. He was just a little bit taller than Regulus and had circular wire-frame glasses. Regulus looked at the messy mop of jet black hair that rested atop the boy's head, and then turned his attention to the Gryffindor tie 'round the boy's neck.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking warily at Regulus.

"Fine." Regulus replied coldly, dusting off the front of his brand new robes.

"JAMES! HURRY UP MATE, WE HAVE TO GET A CARRIAGE! PETE HERE IS STARVING!" Another boy shouted, and Regulus turned his head to see none other than Sirius Black rushing over to them, tailed by two boys.

Regulus recognized the taller of the other two as Remus Lupin, but he stared at the other boy with a quizzical look. He was quite a bit shorter than the others, and had short blonde hair atop his round head. He was quite a pudgy boy, and was wringing his hands nervously in front of him.

"JAMES, WHAT'S TAKING SO LON-" Sirius reached the boy named James, and then saw the scene before him. "Oh, I see you met my ickle brother."

James raised both eyebrows and his eyes darted between the two Black brothers. His mouth split into an 'O' shape, and he nodded his head slowly. "So this is Regulus?" he turned his attention to Sirius and gestured towards Regulus.

"Yeah, the little blighter in the flesh." Sirius said, a smirk playing on his face as he looked between James and Regulus.

"Nice to meet you," James said, turning towards Regulus.

Regulus grunted in response and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you know where we're supposed to go?" Regulus asked, turning to look at his brother.

"Hagrid," Sirius pointed to a man that was very easily seen through the crowd.

Regulus turned to look at where Sirius was pointing, and his jaw dropped. The man that Sirius was pointing at was easily ten feet tall, if not more, and at least three times as wide as the average man. He had a bushy brown beard that reached down to his mid section, and long shaggy hair that was around the same length.

Regulus broke his attention away from Hagrid and turned it to Barty, who was staring with wide eyes at the man. Without saying anything else to his brother, Regulus took a few steps towards the direction where Hagrid was standing.

"Reg, wait," Sirius took a few quick steps forward and gripped Regulus's wrist.

Regulus turned around to look at his brother, a sneer on his face. "I'll be right back," Sirius said to his friends, and he pulled Regulus off to the side.

"I have to go," Regulus said, wrenching his wrist out of his brothers hand and turning to walk back to where Barty was waiting.

"Reg, wait, please," Sirius reached out and grabbed his brother's arm once again, looking pleadingly at his younger brother. "I just wanted to know if you considered what I said to you."

Regulus looked at his brother, and he had to fight quite hard to keep his expression from softening. "No." he replied in as cold a voice as he could muster.

"Oh," Sirius looked hurt, and Regulus immediately felt quite bad for the tone that he had used. "Well, you've met two of my friends now, so maybe..." he trailed off, knowing there was really nothing more that he could say to his brother if he hadn't managed to change his mind yet.

Regulus pulled his arm from his brother's grasp, though he did it much more gently this time. Neither of the brothers said anything to each other, they just moved through the crowd to their respective friends in silence. James and Barty were standing a few feet apart, hovering quite awkwardly and shooting occasional glances at one another.

Regulus walked over to Barty, and Sirius walked towards Remus and the other boy, James following closely behind.

"How'd it go?" Regulus heard James ask.

"I hope the little blighter falls in the lake," Sirius responded, and Regulus did everything he could to remain stone-faced.

"What'd he want?" Barty asked Regulus while they were making their way over to where Hagrid was still calling for the first years.

"Just wanted to see if I had thought about something," Regulus responded, shrugging his shoulders and pushing through the thick crowd of students that were still flooding the platform.

"Firs' years o'er here! Firs' years o'er here!" Hagrid bellowed, waving with his dustbin lid sized hands.

Regulus and Barty emerged from the thick crowd, and Hagrid eyed them carefully. Suddenly, a wide grin spread across his face, and his eyes skimmed the small crowd. "Looks like yer all here! Follow me!"

The group of small first years followed the giant of a man that was walking ahead of them. He led them off of the platform and onto a rather thin, steep walkway. There were stone steps that led down to the place that they were headed to, but they had eroded over time, and were quite cracked and torn apart.

Regulus and Barty walked side by side, taking each step carefully so as not to fall down. Eventually, they reached a small shore on the opposite side of the Black Lake from the castle.

Regulus stared at the castle in awe; it was nothing but a black silhouette against the dark blue night sky. There were small golden-yellow shapes dotted across the castle where the light was shining through the windows.

"Alrigh' firs' years! Everyone get into the boats!" Regulus broke his gaze from the castle and looked to see at least ten boats on the edge of the lake.

He and Barty quickly found a boat together, and were joined by two other boys. One of them had a rather pale complexion, and a mess of blonde hair atop his head. The other seemed quite awkward in the boat, as though he didn't want to be there. He was a very small boy, smaller than even Barty was, and had curly brown hair.

The four boys surveyed each other, but the blonde boy's eyes seemed to linger on Regulus the most. He suddenly felt quite uncomfortable, and he turned to Barty quickly. Hagrid, seeing that all of the first years were in the boats and none were left on the shore, tapped his boat with a pink umbrella, and all of the boats started forward across the lake.

The boat ride was quite a bumpy one, and Regulus found himself gripping the edges of the boat. He was feeling quite queasy, and really wanted nothing more than to be off of it.

Barty had attempted some small talk with the smaller boy in the boat, but had quickly given up. Meanwhile, the blonde boy was still staring quite intensely at Regulus. Regulus felt uneasy underneath the boy's stare, and wished desperately that he would just stop.

Once they reached the middle of the lake, it became quite clear to Regulus that the boy wouldn't stop staring of his own free will. So, Regulus let go of the edge of the boat, straightened his spine, and fixed the boy with his most intense glare.

They glared at each other for an untellable amount of time, each one's face becoming more and more sinister as the seconds passed. Barty and the other boy were glancing between the two boys, and the small boy seemed to cower at the sight of their scowls.

Suddenly, a ripple of water hit their boat quite hard, and the occupants shook quite intensely. The small boy let out a squeak of fear, and Barty gripped the edges of the boat quite hard. The other boy was thrown off by the movement, but Regulus stayed completely still.

The boy sent Regulus one last fiery glare, and then turned his head to the side. Feeling quite proud of himself, Regulus allowed himself to return to his natural posture, and glanced to Barty. He was giving him an impressed look, and leaned in so that the other boys wouldn't hear what he had to say.

"Good job, that kid seems like a real dolt," Barty whispered, and Regulus nodded in agreement.

The rest of the boat ride went much more smoothly, in the terms of both the calmness of the water and the attitude of the occupants. The boy didn't look at Regulus again, which put Regulus in a rather fantastic mood.

Regulus was staring over the edge of the boat, studying the small ripples that passed through the water surrounding their boat, when Barty shook his shoulder. He looked at Barty, but was distracted by the large hole that they were passing through. It appeared to be the mouth of a cave, and Regulus looked with wide eyes at the stalactites and stalagmites that covered the stone above them.

The boats all came to a halt at a small dock in the mouth of the cave, and Hagrid unsteadily climbed out of the boat. Once he was planted firmly on the dock, he reached out to begin helping off the group of first years. Barty and Regulus were some of the first ones on the dock, and they both talked excitedly about the sorting that would be taking place shortly.

"Alrigh' firs' years, this way!" Hagrid called, and started towards a door at the end of the dock.

The first years all scrambled after him, and he held the door open for them to walk through. The door led into a rather dark and dingy corridor, and Regulus shivered from the coldness of it. The walls and floor were made completely of stone, and the only light in the whole corridor came from small, dim torches that lined the walls.

Once Hagrid was sure he hadn't forgotten any of the children, he gestured for them to follow him. They all took many twists and turns through, each corridor getting damper and darker than the last. Hagrid would glance over his shoulder every few seconds to be sure that none of the first years had separated from the group.

"Alrigh' firs' years, wai' here," Hagrid said while ascending a rather steep staircase. He stopped the group of first years at the top in what appeared to them to be the entrance hall, and he walked towards a set of ginormous doors.

Once he had disappeared through the door, the group broke out into conversation.

"I'm nervous," Barty confided in Regulus, and the two friends looked at one another.

"Why are you nervous?" Regulus asked, tilting his head to the side. What he wasn't saying to Barty, of course, was that he was rather nervous himself. He knew that, since Sirius had been sorted Gryffindor, there was a chance that the hat would want to do the same with him. What he also knew was that, if he was sorted Gryffindor like Sirius was, he was as good as dead. Orion and Walburga Black would not do very well with the knowledge that both of their sons had been sorted out of Slytherin, and Regulus was terrified of what that would mean for him.

"...Ravenclaw, but you're my only friend so far, and you seem like a really good friend, so I don't want to be in different houses," Barty was saying when Regulus finally snapped out of whatever head space he had gone into.

"I'm sorry, Barty" Regulus replied, trying his best to comfort his friend with what little bit of the conversation he had heard, "but don't worry! I'm sure you'll get Slytherin, and then we can be in the same house and hang out all the time!"

"What if the hat puts me in Ravenclaw, though?"

"Well, I'm sure we could still hang out sometimes! Slytherin and Ravenclaw aren't as different as, say, Slytherin and Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right," but Barty was still wholly unconvinced.

For a brief moment, Regulus considered telling Barty about his doubts, too. However, before he could even come to the decision, a tall witch stepped in front of the group of first years. A hush went through the small crowd, and the witch clasped her hands in front of herself and eyed them all carefully.

"My name is Professor McGonagall," she introduced herself; Regulus noticed that she had a Scottish twinge to her voice, "I am the head of Gryffindor house, as well as the Transfiguration Professor. In a moment, I will lead you through these doors, and you will be sorted into your house. There are four houses: Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

Murmurs went up through the small crowd, and the first years glanced nervously at one another. "Now," McGonagall continued, "let's go."

The group of first years scampered after her, excitement coursing through their veins. Regulus's hands trembled, and he could feel his stomach turning from nervousness. McGonagall reached the same large doors that Hagrid had disappeared through, and swung them open wide.

The Great Hall was completely silent, and Regulus stared around the room in awe. There were four long house tables that lined the room vertically from the entrance door. At the front of the room, there was a slightly raised platform with a long horizontal table which was completely lined in teachers.

Regulus looked up, and his eyes widened at the sight above him. There were hundreds of candles that hovered overhead through the room, which were all lit and bobbed up and down through the air. The pièce de résistance of the Great Hall, however, was the ceiling. The ceiling was enchanted to perfectly mirror the weather from outside, giving the appearance that there was no ceiling at all.

The first years walked through the empty space between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, and were stopped by McGonagall when they reached the front. The group spilled and separated out across the front and watched eagerly as McGonagall walked off to the side.

She came back carrying a stool which had a tattered hat resting atop of it. The first years all stared at the old hat uncertainly, giving each other questioning glances. Regulus watched as McGonagall rested the stool and the hat in front of the cluster, and took a few steps back. Suddenly, the brim of the hat split open, and several of the first years let out small gasps.

Regulus's eyes widened, and he saw Barty's jaw drop out of the corner of his eye as the hat began to sing:

_For centuries, it has been my job_   
_to sort this little mob!_   
_Four houses inside this castle,_   
_but sorting you isn't a hassle!_

_Will you be Gryffindor,_   
_where dwell the brave and true of heart?_   
_There's not much one can do to a Gryffindor_   
_that would ever tear them apart!_

_Or perhaps Hufflepuff,_   
_which holds the loyal and the true?_   
_Oh, if I could,_   
_that's where I would put all of you!_

_Of course, no one can forget Ravenclaw,_   
_with their smarts and wit._   
_Though, they could loosen up_   
_on their studies just a bit!_

_Last but not least, Slytherin,_   
_the most ambitious and cunning._   
_If you go against them for something they want,_   
_it'll be quite a close running!_

_Before we get to the sorting,_   
_I have a bit of a warning!_   
_Remember to stick together,_   
_for what happens in these walls will be remembered forever!_

Applause broke out within the groups of students, and the first years were talking excitedly to one another about how cool the hat was. McGonagall adjusted her spectacles on the bridge of her nose and unrolled a scroll of parchment that she had had tucked underneath her arm.

"Ackland, Deacon!" McGonagall called.

Regulus looked towards the movement that was happening in the small crowd, and watched as a boy stepped forward; it was the small boy from the boat.

Deacon walked up to the stool and sat down (he was visibly quite nervous, he was practically trembling!). McGonagall gave the small boy a reassuring smile, and then she dropped the hat onto his head.

The entire hall waited in silence while the sorting hat made its decision. Regulus could see Deacon's mouth moving, but no one in the hall could hear what was being said due to the silencing charm that was placed on the hat.

" _GRYFFINDOR_!" The hat finally shouted, and the Gryffindor table went absolutely wild.

Regulus would never admit it, of course, but he was a little upset that the boy named Deacon had been sorted Gryffindor. Yes, he was quite a quiet boy, but he seemed like a sweet one nonetheless. No matter, though, at least he could still be in a house with Barty!

"Anderson, Francesco!"

Another boy walked up to the stool; though he was much bigger than Deacon, he was still a small boy. The hat was dropped onto his head, and it barely even waited ten whole seconds.

" _GRYFFINDOR_!"

The Gryffindor table erupted into utter chaos yet again. People were screaming and clapping, and the boy Prefect was practically jumping up and down.

Francesco swaggered over to the Gryffindor table and sat down, grinning from ear-to-ear; Regulus couldn't help but feel that Francesco's confidence was contagious, because he suddenly got a burst of it himself.

_Him and Deacon seem nice_ , Regulus thought, _maybe if I got sorted Gryffindor it wouldn't be-_

_NO!_ , he scolded himself, and he shook the thoughts out of his head.

Next was a little girl named Clementine Bates, who got sorted Hufflepuff, and then-

"Black, Regulus!"

The Great Hall suddenly went completely silent; Regulus could've sworn that you would've been able to hear a feather drop. He walked up to the stool with his new air of confidence and sat down upon it.

The last thing he saw before the hat was dropped onto his head was the hopeful expression that his older brother was wearing upon his face.

Regulus's stomach gave a sudden lurch as the hat fell atop his head and covered his eyes. For a second, there was nothing but utter silence.

_"Mmmm, interesting..."_ a voice echoed through Regulus's head, and a chill went down his spine. _"Yes, particularly interesting. Much like your brother, you are."_

"Sirius? I'm like Sirius?" Regulus asked, unable to believe what he was hearing; he was nothing like his brother! At least... he didn't _think_ he was...

_"Yes... the other Black... the one I sorted last year. This new generation of Blacks... it's very strange... unlike the others..."_ The hat was silent once again, and dread started to creep its way through Regulus's veins. _"I think I know where I'll put you... I can't believe I'm doing this for a second time, but-"_

"NO! No, I can't be Gryffindor, please! Please, please not Gryffindor! _Any house but Gryffindor_!" Regulus said, and his mind wandered back to the way his parents had treated Sirius over the summer; the memory of Sirius writhing in pain on the library floor under his father's wand.

_"Ahhhh... I see... I'm sorry, dear boy, that you must live in a household like that in a time such as this..."_ Regulus felt his body relax, for he was quite sure that he would at least not be sorted Gryffindor anymore. _"If that is what you really want, I guess we shall go-"_

" _SLYTHERIN_!"

The Slytherin table erupted in applause, and the 5th year Prefects stood up to welcome the first of their newcomers.

McGonagall lifted the hat from Regulus's head, and the first thing that he laid eyes upon was his brother. Sirius Black was staring very, very hard at the table in front of him, and Regulus could've sworn that he saw his lower lip trembling. The boy across from him, the one Sirius had called James on the platform, was leaning over the table and whispering comforting words to his brother.

Regulus looked away from his brother rather quickly, afraid that if he kept looking, he would burst into tears like a stupid baby. He didn't _like_ that he felt this way. He was sorted Slytherin, he should've been feeling ecstatic! However, there was a very small part of him that felt almost... heartbroken. He knew that, at least for now, there was little hope for the rekindling of a relationship between the two brothers.

Regulus hopped off of the stool and tried very, very hard to keep his expression happy and to keep the tears inside where they belonged. Barty Crouch was staring at him with a wide grin, giving him a reassuring thumbs up.

Regulus flashed him a smile, and then turned to walk towards the Slytherin table.

Once he was there, he sat on the bench next to the boy Prefect, so that he was back-to the Gryffindor table.

"Congratulations, Regulus," said the Prefect, a 5th year boy named Corban Yaxley, "your family will be most proud."

"Thanks," Regulus muttered, turning around to watch the sorting over his shoulder.

He had never met Corban Yaxley, but he knew of the surname; his mother and father often spoke about his mother, Ferula Yaxley, who was, like his parents, a follower of a man that they called "the Dark Lord".

"Crouch, Bartemius!" McGonagall called, and Regulus watched with eager eyes as Barty walked up to the stool and took his seat.

The hat took a fair amount of time with Barty, and Regulus grew more and more nervous with every passing second, until-

" _SLYTHERIN_!"

Regulus let out a sigh of relief, and he clapped heartily as the the prefect across from Yaxley stood up to welcome him. Barty rushed over to the table and took the seat across from Regulus, a huge grin on his face.

"We did it! We got Slytherin together!" Regulus said.

"The hat almost put me in Ravenclaw, but I told it I really wanted Slytherin, so that's where it put me!" Barty said, his face was flushed with excitement.

"As it should have, Slytherin is the best house," said the girl whom Barty was sitting next to, "my name is Gillian Fairman, I am one of your Prefects." She introduced herself, and she nodded at both boys in turn.

Before Regulus could say anything back, a cold hand clamped onto his shoulder, and he turned around quickly. Hovering behind him, staring at him with a regal expression on her face, was his cousin, Narcissa Black.

"Hello Regulus," she said, her tone was cold and flat, "glad to see that you've made the right decision, unlike _your brother_." She said the words "your brother" with such hatred, that one might've thought he committed a heinous crime against her.

"Yeah - uh - thanks," he said, feeling quite uncomfortable; he could feel several pairs of eyes on him.

She nodded and took her hand off of his shoulder; the movement of her robes when she did so caused the small silver badge on her chest to glint in the light. _Head Girl_. He nodded to the badge pinned to her chest, "Congratulations. Uncle Cygnus must be thrilled."

"Yes, father was quite proud," Narcissa replied, her facial expression not faltering from the stoney one that she had been wearing.

Regulus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glanced back up at the sorting just in time to see a boy named Emerson Reid joining the Ravenclaw table.

"Rosier, Evan!" Regulus watched as the blonde boy from the boat walked up to the stool.

"That's Wilfred's son," Regulus heard Corban whisper to the boy next to him, "he'll be Slytherin, no doubt about it."

And, sure enough-

" _SLYTHERIN_!"

Both Corban and Gillian stood to welcome the new boy to the table. Evan Rosier sat next to Barty, and he fixed Regulus with an intense glare.

"So you're a Black, then?" Rosier sneered.

"No, I'm a Weasley. Of course I'm a Black you dolt." Regulus replied with just as much fierceness as Rosier had in his tone.

Corban Yaxley glanced between the two boys in amusement, and then looked up just in time to welcome a new student to the table, a girl named Phoebe Scott.

Throughout the rest of the sorting, the Slytherin table got a few more additions. A girl named Constance Selwyn (Regulus recognized the surname as yet another one that his mother had mentioned before), who got along quite quickly with Phoebe Scott. The final addition to the Slytherin table was a boy named Theodore Travers, and he seemed to gravitate towards Rosier quite quickly.

Dumbledore stood up from his seat in the middle of the teachers table and made his way to the podium in the front, smiling around at the student body. McGonagall placed the stool and sorting hat back where they had been and hurried to her seat at the staff table.

Dumbledore brought his wand up to his throat. " _Sonorous_ ," he murmured, "welcome, all, to another year at Hogwarts!" The old headmaster began, and his voice was magically magnified to fill every crevice of the Great Hall.

"Now, I know that normally, we would do announcements at the end of the feast, but I am afraid I have some important business to attend to. Therefore, I beg your forgiveness, but we will be holding the speech first."

Regulus heard several Slytherin's start muttering to one another up and down the table.

"What does he _mean_ important business?"

"That old fool better not be interfering with the plan..."

"The Dark Lord will have their heads if Dumbledore stops it!"

"Is he talking about the attack?"

Barty and Regulus looked at one another, and Regulus shrugged his shoulders. He honestly did have no idea what any of the other Slytherin's were talking about; the Black's never confided in Regulus about plans regarding the Dark Lord.

_What attack?_

Sirius's voice rang through Regulus's head, and he suddenly felt quite uneasy. Could this be what Orion and Walburga were talking about that day in the library? The conversation that Sirius had been listening in on, could this be it?

_Maybe it's Dumbledore's business. I'm sure he'd like to know._

Regulus glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes landed on the back of Sirius Black's head. Had he really told Dumbledore about what he had overheard?

Regardless, a wave of fear for Sirius washed over Regulus, and he shifted uneasily in his seat.

"... on Filch's door," Regulus tuned back into the old headmasters speech. "Now, I am sure that most of you have noticed the new addition to the staff table." Dumbledore turned around, and a rather tall man stood up. He was quite muscular, and had a mop of black curls atop his head. He looked quite young, _much_ younger than any other teacher at the table.

"This is Professor Milo Bell, and he will be filling the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Professor Bell waved to the crowd of students, and whispers went up between the girls of the Great Hall.

"He's _cute_!" Squealed Phoebe, and Constance nodded in agreement.

Regulus did have to admit; he was quite an attractive man, as far as men go.

Professor Bell sat back down in his seat, and Dumbledore turned back to the students with a smile. "Now, I will stop taking up your time. But, I do have one last thing to say. I can not stress to you all, how important it is to stay together. We're living in uncertain time, and I am afraid that your generation is getting the blunt end of it.

"I beg you all; think before you act. Some of you," his eyes flickered towards the Slytherin table for but a second, "I know, are living the consequences of past generational choices. Some of you have parents who may have beliefs that can be seen as harmful. I ask you, think for yourself, and do not follow the path that you are not meant to take."

The Great Hall was completely silent, and several sets of eyes were fixed on the Slytherin table.

"Now, enough of that. Let us eat," and with the wave of his wand, food sprouted up on the four long house tables.

Just like that, the words said in Dumbledore's speech were forgotten, and the students were all digging hungrily into the food before them. Just like that, Regulus's worries for his brother were forgotten. Just like that, the regret that was writhing deep inside of Regulus was suppressed.

For right then, in that moment, it seemed that things were looking up for Regulus. Away from his parents, learning how to properly do magic, and spending time with new friends!

Years from now, however, Regulus would realize that this is when everything began to go wrong.

If only he had listened to Sirius.


	6. The Attack

_Regulus was in the sitting room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place; Sirius had just been given a new toy broom for his 7th birthday and he let Regulus have a go on it._

_Regulus zoomed around the small space, weaving through the furniture and coming close to hitting one of their mother's cabinets. When he pulled a sharp turn to dodge the cabinet, Sirius started clapping and stood up on the coffee table, jumping up and down._

_"GOOD JOB, REGGIE!" He shouted, grinning from ear to ear._

_Regulus laughed and continued to zip this way and that, his older brother cheering him on the whole time._

_Suddenly, however, a crash emanated from the library that was the floor above where the boys stood. Sirius looked up to where the sound had come from, and that's when he heard the stomping footsteps coming down the stairs._

_Sirius immediately jumped to the floor and rushed over to where Regulus had stopped the broom, hovering a few inches off the ground with a confused expression._

_"Come here, Reggie!" Sirius said, helping his little brother off of the broom and stowing it off in a corner of the room._

_The footsteps were echoing through the hallway now, coming closer and closer to the boys. Regulus looked at his brother with a frightened expression, and Sirius opened his mouth to comfort him, but was promptly cut off._

_The door to the sitting room was forced open with the flick of a wand, and it slammed into the wall behind it - hard. Regulus let out a scream, and Sirius quickly turned around to face the door frame._

_Orion Black stared at his sons with a hatred that was unlike any they had ever seen. Sirius reached back and grappled for his little brothers hand, trying to comfort him in the best way he could; Regulus's hand was trembling, and Sirius gave it a small squeeze._

_"Which one of you took it?" Orion snarled, looking between his two sons._

_"Took what?" Sirius asked, trying to keep his high voice as steady as possible._

_"YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! THE CUP, THE BLOODY CUP!" Orion Black was red with fury, and he raised his wand at his sons._

_Regulus was cowering behind Sirius, squeezing a handful of fabric from Sirius's shirt with the hand that wasn't holding Sirius's. Regulus didn't know what their father was talking about! What cup?!_

_"We didn't take it!" Sirius shouted, and he straightened his spine and shifted his stance to better cover Regulus._

_"YOU WANT TO LIE TO ME, BOY?"_

_Suddenly, the scene changed. Regulus was no longer cowering behind seven-year-old Sirius; he was standing in the door frame of the library in Number 12. Sirius was writhing in pain on the floor, begging Orion to stop._

_"STOP IT!" Regulus shrieked, running into the library towards his brother._

_Only, Orion didn't stop._

_Regulus put his left hand on his brother's chest and his right on his shoulder. "Siri, I'm sorry," Regulus choked, the words seeming to get caught in his throat as tears flooded his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..."_

_Sirius opened his eyes and looked at Regulus; his screams seemed to die out, but Regulus could still feel his muscles twitching beneath his skin. Regulus watched as Sirius's icy grey eyes seemed to dim; it was as though they had lost all of their color._

_"This is your fault," Orion Black said, suddenly hovering over Regulus from behind. "YOUR FAULT!"_

"NO!" Regulus sat bolt upright in bed. His heart was slamming so hard against his ribcage that he was sure they would break.

"Regulus?" A voice croaked from the darkness that surrounded him, and he frantically look around. Barty Crouch Jr. had pulled apart the curtain that surrounded his four-poster and was looking at Regulus with tired eyes.

"Go back to sleep," Regulus replied, "it's ok."

"Are you sure?" Barty asked, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok."

"Can you shut the bloody hell up?" Evan Rosier shouted through the dark of the first year Slytherin dormitory.

"Shut it, Rosier," Regulus snapped, then he turned back to Barty. "Go back to sleep, it's fine."

Barty eyed Regulus warily, but obliged nonetheless. Regulus sat upright in bed, his palms splayed on the mattress on either side of him to steady himself while he calmed his breathing.

Once his breathing was properly under control, Regulus realized just how thirsty he was. He quietly threw the blankets off of himself and stepped onto the hardwood floor beneath him. Regulus was very careful to step lightly, attempting to make it out of the room without the floorboards creaking.

Regulus successfully made it out of the room, down the stairs, and into the common room with no one else waking up. Regulus plopped down into one of the dark-green chairs before the fire place, and he stared at the dancing flames within the grate.

"Kreacher!" Regulus called, breaking his attention from the fire and remembering his purpose for coming down to the common room.

A loud _CRACK!_ sounded from the coffee table beside Regulus, and he looked over to see the old elf standing atop of it. "Master Regulus has called for Kreacher, so Kreacher has come."

"Thank you, Kreacher. I didn't wake you, did I?" he noticed the tired look on the elf's face.

"Yes, but Kreacher is happy to serve Master Regulus at any hours of the day! Is Master Regulus liking Hogwarts?"

"Yes, yes, it's wonderful. Classes start tomorrow," he added, and the elf flapped his big ears happily. "How are mother and father?"

"Mistress and Master Orion are being very busy, Master Regulus."

"Busy?" Regulus suddenly remembered the speech that Dumbledore had given on the first day of term, and an uneasiness filled him. "With what?"

_Please don't be about Sirius_ , he thought, _please don't be about Sirius_.

"Master Orion has ordered Kreacher not to tell anyone, not even Kreacher's Master Regulus." the elf wrung his hands nervously and hopped from foot to foot.

"Oh, ok. Kreacher, could you please make me some tea?" Regulus remembered his purpose for calling Kreacher, and he smiled at the old elf.

"Yes, of course Master Regulus!"

Regulus watched the elf scurry towards the fire and place a kettle above the flames with a snap of his finger. He used this time to think about everything that had happened at the start of term feast.

It was already 3 September (well, 4 September technically), and Regulus had spent the weekend wandering the grounds of Hogwarts and exploring the castle. For this reason, he hadn't really thought about everything that had occurred Friday night yet.

_What attack were the Slytherin's talking about? Is that_ really _what Dumbledore had to leave so early for? Was this really the attack that Sirius was talking about? Did he tell Dumbledore?_

"Hey, Kreacher?" Regulus asked, and the old elf looked up from the tea cup that he was stirring.

"Master Regulus's tea will be ready in just a second!" Kreacher said, turning back to the tea and adding several things to it with the snap of a finger.

"Thank you Kreacher, but I wanted to ask you something. Have mother and father... have they... mentioned Sirius at all?"

Kreacher hurried over to Regulus and handed him the tea cup. "Here is Master Regulus's tea. Mistress and Master Orion have not mentioned the blood-traitor in front of Kreacher."

Regulus nodded slowly and took a sip of the tea, feeling the warmth of it travel all the way down to his belly. "Thank you for the tea, Kreacher. You can go. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Master Regulus!"

With a _CRACK!_ , the old house elf was gone. Regulus sipped his tea and stared forward, watching the tops of the flames dissipating through the air.

_If Sirius told Dumbledore, than he's in a lot of danger_ , Regulus thought.

_Serves him right._

_But, he's-_

_He's a blood-traitor. He deserves every bad thing that comes to him. He shamed the name of Black; he deserves to be punished._

_No one deserves what mother and father would do._

_He does._

_He does?_

_He does._

_He does..._

Regulus finished his tea and put his tea cup down on the little counter where the house elves would come to collect them. As he made his way back up to the dormitory, he tried to push all thoughts of Sirius out of his mind.

_He's a blood traitor. He deserves it. If he defied mother and father, if he defied the_ Dark Lord _, he deserves it. The Dark Lord will take care of him._

Regulus climbed back into his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

He fell back asleep that night arguing with himself about his brother.

The following morning, the Great Hall was a frenzy of students passing around their copies of the Daily Prophet. Regulus and Barty sat next to each other at the end of the table, away from the other members of Slytherin house.

"What do you think everyone's talking about?" Regulus asked, taking a piece of toast from the plate before him and biting off a corner.

"Dunno. Maybe it has to do with whatever they were talking about Friday?" Barty replied, taking a bite of his blueberry oatmeal.

Regulus felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, and he leaned over to his left and snatched the paper out of a boy's hands. "Hey!" He said, but Regulus ignored him.

_SEVERAL MUGGLE FAMILIES ATTACKED BY FOLLOWERS OF YOU KNOW WHO! 12 DEAD!_

Regulus widened his eyes and accidentally bit down too hard on the toast that he was holding in his mouth, causing it to fall onto his lap. He picked it up and tossed it down onto his plate while he continued on reading.

_Friday night at around 11PM, 4 different muggle families were attacked by followers of the man who calls himself "the Dark Lord". His followers - also known as "Death Eaters" - snuck into four muggle homes under orders to kill the occupants within (see page 4 for names and photos of the victims). Aurors arrived on the scene shortly after the attacks started, but were too late to save any of the victims. The Dark Mark was cast over the homes of the muggles, and many muggles had to undergo memory charms to maintain the Statute of Secrecy._   
_"This will not stand!" says the Minister, Eugenia Jenkins. "The so called "Dark Lord" is a coward! Ordering his followers to do his dirty work for him! Anyone who has been made afraid by these attacks, I can assure you that this will not stand! We will be doubling security on all entrance and exit points of the Ministry, and we will be doubling the aurors out on patrol. Attacks like these will not stand! I can assure you, Mr. "Dark Lord", we will have a cell and a dementor waiting for you at Azkaban when we catch you."_   
_Since the attack, many people have begun questioning the power of the Ministry in times like these. Is the Minister really doing everything she can at fighting He Who Must Not Be Named?_

Regulus finished reading the article and placed the paper down on the table before him. Barty - who had been reading the paper over Regulus's shoulder - went back to eating his breakfast like nothing had happened.

Regulus glanced around the Great Hall - suddenly, the somber mood that everyone was in made sense. He considered turning to page 4 of the Prophet to see the names of the victims, but he decided against it.

The boy who's paper Regulus stole - a fifth year named Walden Macnair - snatched it back with a grimace on his face.

"They were filth," Corban Yaxley - who was sitting across the table from Macnair - said. "Deserved what was comin' to 'em."

"Hell yeah they did," Macnair agreed, rolling the paper and tossing it beside his breakfast plate, "stupid muggle filth." Macnair lowered his voice, but was still loud enough for both Barty and Regulus to be able to hear if they tried hard enough. "We need to get new recruits. The Dark Lord wants fresh blood; wants some kids who can help infiltrate the school."

"Fresh blood?" Regulus asked, and both of the fifth year boys turned to look at him.

"Yeah, kid, fresh blood. The Dark Lord wants some new recruits, and we were given the job." Yaxley gestured between himself and Macnair. "Why? Interested?"

Barty and Regulus looked between one another, and excitement coursed through their veins. "Yeah!" Regulus replied, and he and Barty both shifted a few seats closer to the older boys.

"We're having a meeting in the common room Friday night. Be there." Yaxley glanced up at the teachers table, and met eyes with the new Defense teacher. " _Don't_ mention this to anyone."

"We won't!" Regulus replied, and he and Barty turned to whisper to each other excitedly.

"Will we really get to work with _the Dark Lord_?" Barty asked, a grin on his face.

"Yeah! Mother and father are already in with him, they always say that the Black's are some of his most loyal followers! They'll be thrilled!"

"My dad's gonna be _pissed_."

Regulus shrugged, "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, now will it?"

Barty's grin got even wider - if that were even possible - and he nodded his head vigorously. "Yeah! Merlin's beard, this is exciting!"

"Yeah!"

Regulus could feel the excitement with every single one of his nerves.

_Mother and father will be so proud!_ , he thought, _not even done with the first week and already I may become one of the Dark Lord's followers!_

_What would Sirius say?_

_What Sirius doesn't know won't hurt him._

_The Dark Lord is bad._

_The Dark Lord is amazing! He's not bad! He knows the truth, and he just wants everyone else to know, too!_

_Does he?_

_Yes!! He's brilliant!_

_Do you really want to work for him, or are you just trying to please your parents? To be the one they wished Sirius would've become?_

_I want to work for him! I want to be the best Death Eater in history!_

While Regulus was having this internal conversation with himself, he didn't even notice Sirius's eyes on him.

Sirius was sitting at the Gryffindor table, back-to the Slytherin table, but kept stealing glances over his shoulder.

"Mate, are you alright?" James muttered - Remus and Peter were having a conversation about something else, and James took the opportunity to speak with his best mate.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." Sirius turned forward again, returning to his breakfast; though, James could tell that there was something bothering him.

"Is it about Regulus?" James asked, barely above a breath.

"No. Well... I just... I don't know. No, no it's not about him. It's about the stupid Dark Lord or whatever the hell he calls himself," Sirius glanced back at the paper before him, staring into the eyes of the four dead muggle families. "I hate him."

"Yeah, mate, we all do."

"No, no, I hate him, James. I _hate_ him. And all of his stupid followers, too." He took one last glance over his shoulder at his little brother, who was now whispering excitedly to the boy next to him. "I hate him."


	7. Classes

The first class of the year was Potions with Gryffindor.

Barty and Regulus made their way down to the dungeons right after breakfast, still whispering excitedly to one another about the meeting that they would be attending on Friday. Aside from his excitement about this, Regulus was also quite excited to go to Potions; less knowing that it was with Gryffindor, but Potions had always been quite an interesting subject to Regulus, so he decided that he would get the most out of it.

Regulus and Barty arrived to the Potions classroom just in the nick of time (they had taken a wrong turn and not realized until they were the complete opposite side of the dungeons from the Potions classroom) and hastened to take their seats.

The only seats that were left was a long table that could sit 4 students in the back of the room. Standing there already was Deacon Ackland - looking as shy and small as ever - and the overly confident Francesco Anderson.

Regulus took the seat next to Francesco, and Barty took the seat to Regulus's left. When they arrived, Francesco was going on and on about his father and how great he was at Potions and how there was _no way_ that Francesco could _possibly_ be bad at it. Deacon, meanwhile, looked absolutely miserable.

He was pale and had puffy red eyes with big, dark rings underneath. He was sniveling and slowly nodding along with everything that Francesco was saying.

"Alright, hello class!" Slughorn's voice boomed from the front of the classroom, and Regulus, Francesco, and Barty all looked up eagerly - Deacon just looked up without a word or hint of interest. "Today, we will be taking notes! I know, I know," a groan had sounded around the room in unison, "but it is quite important! Come on now, parchment and quills! Pip pip!"

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Barty whispered to Regulus when they both reached down for their book bags.

Regulus glanced over his shoulder at Deacon, who was halfheartedly searching through his book bag. Regulus turned forward again and shrugged his shoulders, "Dunno. Maybe he misses home or something?"

Barty shrugged and sat up straight, putting his parchment on the desk before him and opening his ink pot. Regulus took longer - he took a considerable amount of time looking at Deacon, who looked like he was trying very hard not to cry.

Francesco seemed to notice too, and he reached a hand over and placed it gently on Deacon's shoulder. "They're just being stupid, Dea, it's ok." Francesco whispered, giving Deacon a smile.

Deacon just shrugged, shaking Francesco's hand off of his shoulder and putting his supplies on the desk before him. Regulus watched as Francesco sighed and looked forward, shaking his head.

The rest of the class was fairly easy. Slughorn had them all take notes on things like Bezoar's, standard potions ingredients, and he helped them all understand everything that was in their potions kits. By the end of it, everyone was growing rather restless, and Regulus looked around the room after he was finished packing his things.

He looked over to see Francesco packing up Deacon's things for him, seeing as Deacon seemed to be fast asleep with his cheek pressed against the desk top. Regulus sat for a minute, debating whether or not to ask Francesco what was wrong with Deacon; he knew they weren't friends, but Deacon just looked _so sad_.

Regulus and Barty lingered a bit in class - Regulus was "taking extra care of his notes" ("wow, your notes are really organized," Barty had commented when class was finished). Regulus kept sneaking glances over at Francesco, who was looking at Deacon with a rather sad look on his face.

"You can go ahead," Regulus said to Barty, noticing how restless the other boy was getting while waiting, "I'll just meet you in the hall outside."

Regulus flashed him a smile, and Barty walked out of the classroom. Once Barty was out of sight, Regulus gently nudged Francesco. Francesco turned around and looked at Regulus curiously.

"Is he ok?" Regulus asked, slinging his book bag onto his shoulder and gesturing towards Deacon, who was very much still asleep.

Francesco stared at Regulus rather warily, his eyes lingering on the green and silver tie 'round the other boy's neck. "He's fine, he's just," Francesco paused, as if trying to be sure that Regulus could be trusted with whatever was going on, "fine." he finished lamely.

"Oh, ok. He just looked really tired is all," Regulus shrugged and walked out of the room, feeling the other boy's curious stare on his back.

Barty was scuffing his trainers on the floor outside of the classroom when Regulus emerged, and the two boys began their walk in silence.

"What class is next?" Regulus asked, realizing that he had left his timetable in the dorm room.

"Uh, hold on," Barty reached his hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. "We have... Herbology, with Ravenclaw."

"Oh, well at least the greenhouses won't be too hard to find. Does it say which greenhouse?"

"Greenhouse 4,"

Regulus nodded and the boys ascended the dungeon staircase, wiggling their way through the crowded entrance hall and out onto the grounds. It was quite a nice day; not too warm, but not too cool, either. There was a light wind, and Regulus could feel the curly hair that rested atop his head ruffling.

Herbology wasn't that difficult. This was Professor Sprout's first year teaching, and she was quite good at it. Their first lesson just consisted of a lecture in which she told the first years what to expect for that year. She introduced a few plants around the greenhouse, including a large Devil's Snare plant that was spilling through the window to greenhouse 3.

The Ravenclaw's were bearable; they didn't really say much. Regulus recognized Emerson Reid from the sorting; he seemed to be the most interested in Herbology out of everyone.

Lunch that day passed by fairly quickly; Regulus and Barty discussed the classes that they had had so far, and Barty expressed his excitement for Transfiguration, which was their last class of the day.

While Barty and Regulus were talking, Regulus would shoot occasional glance at the Gryffindor table. Deacon was pushing his food around his plate with his fork, and Francesco - as well as another boy - were trying desperately to cheer him up.

Regulus wondered fleetingly what was wrong with him again, but he let it drop and turned back to Barty.

Transfiguration turned out to be just as excellent as Barty had hoped it would be. It was the only class (besides Charms, which they had had after lunch) where they had already begun working on something.

That night at dinner, while Barty was talking to Constance Selwyn about something that Regulus didn't exactly pick up on, he glanced at the Gryffindor table. Deacon Ackland wasn't there, and neither was Francesco.

The next day, the first year Slytherin's had History of Magic first, which was easy enough. It was quite boring, but Regulus took notes and listened diligently to everything that their ghost of a teacher said anyways. Next was Transfiguration, and Barty left absolutely ecstatic.

"Reg, that class is brilliant!" He was saying, a new pep in his step as the two boys made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Regulus smiled at his friend and listened to him speak in excited whispers about how thrilling the course and subject itself was. Lunch and Charms that day were quite smooth; Regulus and Barty had both managed to make their feathers briefly lift off of the desk using _Wingardium Leviosa_.

That afternoon was their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Barty and Regulus arrived to the classroom a few minutes early - they wanted to get there as fast as they could in case they accidentally got lost.

Both of the boys were quite excited to meet the teacher and see if everything that the Slytherin's had been saying about him was true; the fifth year Slytherin's had him first thing on Monday, and they all said that he was just a great big tosser who didn't have any right teaching at a school. One of the Slytherin's biggest complaints was that the teacher wanted people to "meet someone new", so he made his own seating arrangements. Unfortunately for the Slytherin's, this meant that a majority of them had to sit next to Gryffindor's.

Barty and Regulus entered the classroom, and were quite shocked to see that they were definitely not the only ones who had the idea. Lined up on the back wall, all facing the desks in front of them, was almost the entire class (the most notable absence of the people who had come so far were Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers).

Milo Bell was standing in the front of the classroom - a huge smile on his face - holding a roll of parchment. "Welcome in!" He beamed at Regulus and Barty as they hastened to join the group of people standing in the back of the room.

Regulus noticed that Deacon and Francesco were standing furthest from the door, and Deacon looked even worse than he had the day before. "You must be... Bartemius Crouch Jr?" Professor Bell gestured towards Barty with his quill.

"Barty," Barty replied, nodding his head slowly and eyeing the Professor suspiciously.

"Barty," Professor Bell replied with a wide grin, checking his name off of the list. "And... Regulus Black?"

Several Gryffindor's turned to look at Regulus with frightened expressions on their faces, which he knew had been brought on by the confirmation of his last name. Regulus nodded his head, and Professor Bell checked his name off of the list, his smile not faltering.

"Alright, looks like we're only missing... Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers. I'm sure we can find seats without them," he walked to the two-person desk to Regulus's left at the front of the room and pointed to the seat closest to the wall. "Lottie Burton," a small girl hesitantly walked towards the seat, and Regulus watched as Bell pointed to the seat beside her, "Evan Rosier will sit here..."

He moved to the desk across the aisle, "Deacon Ackland," Regulus looked over and watched Deacon shuffle over to the seat, sniveling every step of the way. He wiped his nose with the back of his fist before taking his seat, and Professor Bell gave him a sympathetic, yet curious, look. "Let's see... Regulus Black." Regulus tensed at the sound of his name, but made his way forward nonetheless.

Professor Bell continued to call names and point to the seats that that person would be occupying. Constance Selwyn got paired with a boy named Benjamin Stone, Phoebe Scott with a girl named Lennox Wright. Theodore Travers got paired with Francesco Anderson, and Barty was put in an extra seat beside Selwyn and Stone because there weren't enough Gryffindor first years.

Rosier and Travers showed up halfway through the seating assignments, and Rosier was less than pleased to learn that he was sitting next to a stupid mudblood (Travers wasn't exactly the picture of happiness, either, "but at least Anderson is a pureblood," Regulus overheard him say later that evening).

Regulus wasn't exactly sure what Deacon's blood status was, and he didn't necessarily want to ask, either. Of course he wanted to _know_ , but Deacon wasn't even looking at Regulus. The entirety of their class, Deacon either had his head down on the desk, or otherwise was just looking straight forward with unfocused eyes.

Regulus wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he knew that that would be overstepping, and he didn't really want to make things worse for him. Yes, Deacon _was_ a Gryffindor, but Regulus still didn't think that he deserved to look as tired and sad as he did.

Professor Bell spent the class introducing himself and having them take notes on several defensive spells. Deacon took the most basic notes that he possibly could, and even then, he missed out on writing half the stuff that they were told to. Regulus took quite thorough notes, as he usually did, and he kept stealing glances at Barty, who was doing the same.

When class ended, Francesco was the first one up and out of his seat. He rushed to the front of the room to help Deacon pack up his things, and then walked out of the classroom with him by his side.

"What's that kids problem?" Barty asked Regulus, walking up beside him as Regulus was just putting the last of his supplies back into his bag.

Regulus shrugged and stood up straight, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Dunno. He didn't say anything the whole class."

"He looks tired."

"And sad," Regulus nodded his head, and the two boys headed out of the classroom together.

The rest of the week's classes went by in a similar fashion. Deacon didn't say a single word, nor did he even try to fake paying attention in Potions on Wednesday, and he didn't even really attempt to fly in their first Flying lesson that very afternoon.

On Thursday, Deacon seemed a bit better in DADA, but he still wasn't exactly the picture of what someone would consider happy. He at least tried to take better notes, and he spent less time with his face buried in the crook of his elbow on the desk.

Friday morning, Barty woke up with a terrible head cold. He woke up coughing quite violently, and Regulus rushed to his side, his shirt only half-tucked into his trousers. The smaller boy looked pale and his whole body was trembling ever so slightly.

"Are you ok?!" Regulus asked, quite alarmed at the state of his friend. He placed a gentle hand on Barty's back and helped him sit up straight in bed.

"I think I'm sick," Barty said; his voice was nasally and hoarse.

"Yeah, I'll say you are," Regulus said, looking at his friend with concern in his eyes.

Barty let out a sort of half-laugh, which turned into yet another fit of violent coughing. Regulus hurried to get the rest of his robes on, and then helped Barty up to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey made Barty lay down in a bed in the ward, and she gave him several different elixirs to make him better. "Get to class, Mr. Black, your friend needs to rest."

"But-" Regulus started to protest, but Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a stern gaze.

"Nothing you can do for him, Mr. Black. Go on, off to class you go," she shooed Regulus out of the ward, and so he walked to Potions class alone.

This was to be their first double Potions class, and also happened to be when they would brew their first potion. Regulus felt quite bad for Barty; he knew how much Barty was looking forward to brewing their first potion.

It wasn't until Regulus had reached the Potions classroom that his stomach growled, and he realized that he had yet to eat breakfast.

_Oh well_ , Regulus thought, _I'll just have to wait until lunch_.

Regulus was one of the last students to enter the classroom; the halls had been packed full of students trying to get to their first class, and the hospital wing itself was quite far away from the dungeons.

However, when he entered the classroom and looked at the place where he and Barty usually sat, it was to find that Deacon was missing as well.

Regulus walked over to the four-person desk and plopped down into his seat next to Francesco, who looked absolutely knackered. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles underneath. He glanced over at Regulus, and Regulus saw his eyes dart to Barty's empty seat.

"He's sick," Regulus said with a shrug, and Francesco nodded his head slowly. After a few moments of silence, Regulus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Where's he?"

"Probably asleep," Francesco murmured, burying his face in his hands.

Regulus tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. Deacon was missing class to _sleep_? "He hasn't slept a wink since Monday in this class," Francesco muttered as a response to Regulus's silence. He took his face out of his hands and rubbed his eyes with his fists.

"Why not?"

"Just... has a lot of stuff going on."

_What stuff?_ , Regulus wanted to ask, but he thought better of it. Besides, Slughorn had chosen this moment to begin speaking to the class.

"Today we will be brewing Cure for Boils! Now, since it is your first potion, I would like you to work in pairs today! The store room is open to get the ingredients that aren't included in your kits! Off you go, pip pip!" Slughorn boomed cheerily, hooking his thumbs into the front two loops of his trousers and rolling on and off of the balls of his feet.

Francesco and Regulus looked at each other. "Guess we have to be partners," Francesco said with a shrug, and Regulus nodded. "I can get the ingredients we have if you want to go to the store room to get the ginger root and shrake spines," Francesco suggested with a shrug.

"Ok," Regulus responded.

Regulus glanced at the board to see how much of each of the ingredients that they would need, and then he headed to the store room.

By the time he reached the classroom, Francesco was just finishing sorting out the other ingredients, and Regulus dropped the root and spines onto the desk in two small piles. Francesco put his textbook - which was open to the page with the instructions for the Cure for Boils - onto the desk between them.

"I'll crush the snake fangs," Regulus offered, and Francesco nodded appreciatively and passed the fangs to Regulus.

"I'll start slicing the pungous onions," Francesco said.

Regulus and Francesco worked in silence, Regulus crushing the six snake fangs, and Francesco slicing the onions into tiny little slivers. When Regulus had finished crushing the fangs, he regarded the instructions, and then added them to their cauldron and began to stir.

Regulus was quite surprised to discover that he and Francesco actually worked together fairly well. Within no time, they were more than halfway through their potion, and Slughorn was absolutely beaming at them.

"Natural potions masters, you two are," he was saying, marveling at the color and texture that their potion was; exactly how it looked in the book. "Of course, Mr. Black, you have had some gifted potion-makers in your family! I would expect nothing less!" He laughed and turned away, walking towards Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers to check their potion.

Francesco seemed quite tense at the mention of the Black family, and Regulus felt a pit in his stomach. The two worked in silence for a few more minutes, until it came to the time where they had to let the potion sit.

Both boys took their seats, and Regulus glanced 'round the classroom. "So..." he began, trying to break the tension that had settled between the two boys, "you look tired."

"I am," Francesco mumbled, and then yawned, as if on cue, "didn't - didn't sleep very well last night."

"Why not?" Regulus asked, turning to look at the taller boy and cocking his head to the side.

"Was with Deacon. Trying to make him feel better."

"What's wrong with him? I mean, I know he's been acting strange all week, and I was going to ask him in Defense on Tuesday, but I didn't want to accidentally make things worse," Regulus admitted, flushing slightly and turning to face forward.

The other boy considered him for a second, seeming to scan Regulus with his eyes. "Why do you care?" Francesco asked finally, and Regulus turned to him quickly, quite shocked by the question. "I mean, no offense, but... well, everyone knows about... you know... _your family_."

Regulus nodded slowly. "What about them?"

"Well... they're all dark wizards, aren't they? Which means that you... well, I just don't really understand why a Black would care about the feelings of a muggle-born, is all." Regulus was silent a moment, and Francesco raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. I mean, I've met your brother and all obviously - nice bloke, he is. Loud, but funny. Anyways, I know that he's not necessarily your _typical Black_ -"

"You can say that again," Regulus muttered, staring down at his hands, which were rested in his lap.

"-but he _did_ get sorted Gryffindor, and you _did_ get sorted Slytherin, so..." Francesco paused, eyeing Regulus, and then heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I just don't get it. And besides, it's not my business to say what's wrong with Dea. If he wants you to know, he'll tell you. Or, better yet, if you _really_ want to know, ask him yourself."

Regulus nodded just as their timer went off. Both boys hastened to finish their potion, and ended up being the first ones done by a long shot. Slughorn excused them - not before gushing about how excellent a pairing the two of them made for potion-making.

Regulus and Francesco walked a few feet apart until they reached the entrance hall, and Francesco turned and started towards the stairs. Regulus watched his retreating back and sat himself down against a wall, waiting for lunch to start.

_He's a mudblood, Francesco is right, I shouldn't care about his stupid feelings._

_Mudblood or not, he doesn't deserve to be as sad as he's been looking._

_Of course he does! He's filth!_

_He's a human being._

_No, he's a_ mudblood _!_

_Human being._

_Disgrace._

Regulus went on like this for a while, arguing with himself inside of his mind yet again. Only when he realized that that night would be the meeting about the new recruits for the Dark Lord, did the voices in his head pause.

Francesco hastened up the staircases of the castle towards the Gryffindor common room. He had to pause on several landings while the moving staircases made their rounds back to him, and he even almost missed the first step of one of them.

By the time that he reached the common room, he was breathless, but he didn't slow down. " _Dragon Pox_!" He said in a clear voice to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and she swung open.

Francesco darted through the common room, ignoring the calls from one of the Prefects, Alannah Lewis. He took the spiral staircase two at a time, but slowed once he reached the first year boys's dorm room. He pushed the door open very slowly, trying his best to be completely silent.

When he entered the room and pushed the door closed behind him, he was plunged into almost-complete darkness. The curtains were pulled tightly shut throughout the room, and all of the lights were off.

Francesco dropped his book bag onto his bed, and then turned towards Deacons bed, which was just to the right of his own bed. He looked sympathetically at the lump underneath the maroon duvet that was his friend, and he sat gently on the edge of the bed by the footboard.

Francesco looked at the smaller boys face, which was only peeking out of the duvet from his nose up. He even looked sad in his sleep.

Francesco took a deep breath and then glanced at the boys's nightstand, which had a letter unfolded on it. He cocked his head and furrowed his brow, standing up and leaning over to read what it said:

_Deacon,_

_I hope you're miserable at that freak school of yours. Learning all sorts of stupid useless magic tricks that will never do anything for you in the real world. Wasting your education hanging out around other freaks like yourself. You're just going to end up a good-for-nothing worthless man with no job or education. I gave you your chances. I warned you. And what did you do? You left anyways. You're an ungrateful, selfish, freaky little brat who will never amount to anything in this world._   
_Don't bother coming home. We don't want to see you._

_-Mrs. Ackland_

"Oh Dea," Francesco whispered, feeling a wave of sadness wash over him as his eyes roved the paper.

How could a mother ever say anything like that to their son?! It was absolutely ridiculous! This wasn't the only letter, either. This was just the newest addition to the collection that his family had been sending him since the first day of term.

Francesco suppressed the anger that was bubbling up inside of himself, and sat down on Deacon's bed again. He looked down at his friends eyes; he could see his pupils moving behind his eyelids, no doubt because of the dreams that he was having.

_I hope he's having a good dream_ , thought Francesco, _he deserves nothing but good dreams for the rest of his life._

Francesco reached towards Deacon's face and brushed the hair off of his forehead gently, smiling sadly at the smaller boy.

"It's all gonna be ok, Dea. I promise."


	8. The Meeting

Friday night (or, technically, Saturday morning) at half past midnight, the four first year boys made their way to the common room. Barty - who had been released by Madam Pomfrey with a draught that he needed to take before bed - and Regulus were practically jogging down the stairs, excitement coursing through their veins.

When they reached the common room, it was already quite crowded. Yaxley and Macnair were standing before the fireplace, and there were several people gathered around them - either in chairs, on couches, or sitting on the floor.

Regulus and Barty made their way over to the group and shared one of the big comfy chairs in front of the fire (they were both quite small, so they were easily able to fit), and Rosier and Travers assumed their place on the floor.

Regulus glanced around at the other people in the room, and he recognized quite a few of them. Narcissa Black, his cousin, was perched on the arm of the couch that held two second year boys: Severus Snape and Augustus Rookwood. Gillian Fairman (who Regulus had since learned was seeing Corban Yaxley) was sitting in the chair across from the boys. On the floor, there sat a few notable names. Constance Selwyn, Mark Mulciber, Mason Avery, Francis Goyle, Victor Crabbe, and Carson Nott.

Yaxley and Macnair looked around the room and nodded, pleased by all of the people that had come to the meeting. They glanced at one another, and it appeared that they were having a conversation with their eyes. Regulus leaned forward, gripping onto the arm of the chair.

"Welcome," Corban Yaxley finally began, looking 'round and nodding at the small clusters of people respectively. "Now, let's get right down to business, shall we?"

Murmurs went up through the crowd, and a twisted smile came onto Yaxley's face. "Excellent. Now, the Dark Lord has a plan. A plan, that he needs more... _useful_ , followers for. Which, I am pleased to say, is where you lot come in."

The murmurs turned to utter excitement, and Regulus could see that even Evan Rosier was smiling excitedly. "I expect that you all want to work for the Dark Lord?" A shouting of agreement, "Most excellent.

"I know that some of you may prove to be... more useful than others. I know that there are some of you who already have connections to the Dark Lord," half the group turned towards Regulus Black, and half turned to Evan Rosier, who was absolutely beaming. "Most of your families are already loyal followers of his."

"What's this plan that he needs help with?" Carson Nott asked, and a few people muttered their agreement of the question.

"The Dark Lord plans to take Hogwarts." Walden Macnair said, and several people gasped.

"What good is taking this stupid school going to do?" asked Mason Avery.

"Well, with a _school_ comes _students_ , correct?" Yaxley responded, a twinkle in his eye.

Victor Crabbe scoffed, "What's he want with a bunch of mudbloods and blood-traitors?"

"Don't question the Dark Lord," Macnair snarled, and the room went completely silent. "Mudbloods and blood-traitors or not, they can still be quite useful. The mudbloods can be used as a... message. Defy the Dark Lord, and this is what happens to your precious ickle babies."

"As for the blood-traitors," continued Yaxley, "a parent will do anything to protect their child. Even, for example, become the follower of the most powerful wizard that the world has ever seen."

A murmur of understanding went up through the group, but Regulus furrowed his brow and looked at his lap in confusion.

_A parent will do anything to protect their child._

Walburga and Orion Black certainly wouldn't.

"This plan will require work from all of you. We need to help him weaken the defenses of the school, so that, when the time comes, it will be easily taken." Macnair said.

"But what about Dumbledore?" Augustus Rookwood asked. "I mean, he's the only wizard that the Dark Lord truly fears, isn't he? What are we supposed to do about him?"

"The Dark Lord does not have to tell us his entire plan. For now, he has given us a task. Weaken the school, and get names and intel." replied Yaxley.

"Names and intel?" Mark Mulciber asked at the same time that Theodore Travers shouted, "That could take years!"

"Yes, it could take years, which is exactly what the Dark Lord is planning on," said Yaxley cooly.

"As for the names and intel," continued Macnair, "the Dark Lord would like us to get intel about the schools defensive measures, as well as protocols for evacuation and responses in the threat of an attack. He wants us to get the names of the most powerful defenders here, so he can target them first and foremost."

Everyone was silent a moment as they digested the information that they had just been given. Regulus glanced over at Barty, who was practically drooling at the thought of helping the Dark Lord.

"So, what? We just have to get information and stuff?" Evan Rosier asked.

"Exactly," Yaxley paused and looked around at everyone in the room. "If this mission is successful - and I have full confidence that it will be - we will all be among the Dark Lord's highest ranks."

"Cool," Barty breathed, and Regulus nodded in agreement.

"That's all. We will notify each and every one of you when the time comes for another meeting. As for right now, _keep this a secret_. If this gets out, I _swear_ to you, I will find out who did it and I will personally be sure that you can _never_ reveal the secrets of the Dark Lord again." Macnair said, and a chill ran through the small crowd.

That night, Regulus was laying awake in bed. He could hear the level breathing and quiet snoring coming from the other three boys, but he could not seem to fall asleep himself.

Regulus expected to be absolutely ecstatic after the meeting, but instead he just felt... odd. It was the same feeling that he had had the night of the sorting; it was as though he felt like he had done something wrong. Like when he was a kid and he would misbehave, and he was just awaiting the punishment from his parents.

Only, this time, he knew that Sirius wouldn't be there to protect him from it.

Sirius.

Merlin. He really, really missed Sirius.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he roughly rubbed them away with the backs of his hands.

_I should talk to Sirius._

_He's a blood-traitor._

_He's my brother._

_He's a disgrace to the Noble House of Black._

_He's the only one in the family who loves me._

_Mother and father love me._

_Mother and father hate me._

_Love._

_Hate._

_I want to talk to Sirius._

_He's a filthy good-for-nothing blood-traitor._

_No._

_Yes._

Regulus tried to divert these thoughts of his brother by thinking about other things. More specifically, the plan that he had learned about mere hours before. If the Dark Lord was really going to take over the school, then mudbloods and _certain_ blood-traitors would be seen as disposable to him. 

Sirius Black and Deacon Ackland would be seen as disposable to him.

_Maybe I should tell Sirius about the pl-_

_NO!_

_But he'll be in danger, I can't just let him die!_

_He deserves it!_

_No he doesn't!_

_Yes he does!_

_No!_

_Yes!_

Regulus sighed and rolled onto his side, staring at the dark green curtains that surrounded his bed. He needed to stop thinking about his stupid brother!

But what else was there to think about? Everything seemed to wrap around and come right back to his older brother.

His family? Sirius was his family.

Hogwarts? Sirius goes to Hogwarts.

The plan? It puts Sirius into danger.

For the first time since Regulus had come to Hogwarts, he was utterly terrified of his parents and what they would do. If anyone ever found out about the thoughts that Regulus was having, he didn't have a doubt that Orion and Walburga wouldn't at least _consider_ killing him on the spot.

And, again, he was just a little more terrified of his parents than he was hopeful about Sirius.

So, he pushed all thoughts out, and focused solely on how proud his parents would be when they learned that Regulus Black was helping the Dark Lord.

The following Tuesday, Regulus walked into the Defense classroom, and was quite surprised to see Deacon Ackland sitting in the seat. Not only was he sitting in the seat, he was sitting straight up, and there was a small smile quirking the corners of his mouth. Francesco Anderson was half-sitting-half-standing on the corner of Deacon's desk, and he seemed to be telling the smaller boy a story, for he was talking quite animatedly.

Regulus sat down in the seat beside Deacon, and Francesco looked at him. His animated hand movements died down, and his smile seemed to dim.

Deacon looked to the side and gave Regulus a small smile. "Hi," the boy said, and Regulus's jaw almost dropped from the sheer shock that the boy was talking. He hadn't heard Deacon talk once, and they had been at Hogwarts for more than a week already. Not only that, but no one outside of Slytherin ever _really_ talked to him - let alone muggle-borns - being a Black and all.

"Uh - hey," Regulus replied, dropping his book bag onto the floor and digging out his notes.

Deacon turned back to Francesco, who was eyeing Regulus warily. "What were you saying, Fran?" Deacon asked, and Regulus noticed how quiet and gentle the other boys voice was, especially compared to the loud and overly-confident voice of Francesco.

"Oh - erm - right, so _anyways_ , then he-" Francesco was about to jump back into whatever he was saying, but was quickly cut off by the clearing of a throat.

Francesco practically fell off of the desk, and whipped around as quick as he could. Professor Bell was staring at him, an amused expression on his face. "Mr. Anderson, if you don't mind, I would like to start class soon."

"Oh - uh - yeah, ha, right. Sorry," Francesco gave Deacon one last smile, and then hastened back to his own seat.

"Mr. Ackland, glad to see you're feeling better," Professor Bell said, and he gave the small boy a toothy grin.

"Yeah, thanks." Deacon mumbled.

Professor Bell walked to the front of the classroom, and he began to lecture the class on how to treat werewolf bites. Everyone in the class was scribbling away diligently, for they had learned quite quickly that their Defense teacher enjoyed giving them surprise quizzes.

Regulus kept stealing glances over at Deacon when he had finished writing whatever it was that Professor Bell and mentioned. Deacon did look considerably better; his skin had some of its color back, and his dark brown eyes had more of a golden look to them.

"Hey," Regulus whispered, leaning a little bit closer to Deacon, who looked over at him curiously, "I just wanted - er..." Regulus trailed off.

_I just don't really understand why a Black would care about the feelings of a muggle-born, is all._

Francesco's words rang through Regulus's head, and he suddenly thought better of what he was going to say. Honestly, caring about the feelings of a mudblood like Deacon? Who cares if he was sad!

"Nevermind," Regulus said, and he hastened to continue on with his notes.

Deacon watched the other boy for a few seconds, and then took a deep breath. "Fran told me you were asking him what was wrong," Deacon said, and Regulus looked up in shock. "He also told me about your - er - family."

Regulus nodded slowly. "He told me about all of the stupid blood purity stuff that you lot believe in. And normally, well, I guess I would avoid you. But, well, I don't know. I don't really... I don't like seeing the worst in people."

"That's a dangerous trait," Regulus said, and Deacon gave him a questioning look. "I just mean that - well - if you choose to see the best in people, you could underestimate them. You could end up hurt."

_Like the Dark Lord. Please don't underestimate the Dark Lord._

Deacons face broke into a small smile, and his eyes softened. "See, that's what I'm talking about. I don't think you would've told me that if you were really a bad person, Regulus Black."

"But - I - er-" Regulus didn't really know how to respond to that.

"I just don't think you're really as evil as everyone says is all," Deacon shrugged.

Regulus felt his heart drop. " _Everyone_?"

"Well, no, not _everyone_..." Deacon bit his lip and looked away.

Regulus studied the other boy a moment. Why did he feel so hurt that people called him evil? He's from the Black family, _of course_ he's supposed to be evil! It's what he was born to be. But, still, he wanted to know...

"Who?"

Deacon considered his options a moment before looking up and meeting the icy grey eyes of Regulus. "Sirius Black," it barely came out above a breath, but Regulus heard it loud and clear.

The name seemed to ring in his ears.

Sirius was telling people that Regulus was evil?

At that moment, Regulus was trying very, very hard not to cry.

"I'm really sorry, I just - I shouldn't - I really - I'm sorry!" Deacon noticed the sadness that had taken over Regulus Black's face, and he tried desperately to backtrack.

"No. No, it's - uh - it's fine. I guess I should've known," Regulus shrugged his shoulders and turned to stare very, very hard at his notes.

"Regulus, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you. I shouldn't have said anything. I don't - I don't think you're-"

"How do you know?!" Regulus snapped, and several heads turned to look at the two boys.

At that moment, Regulus was so hurt by the words that had been said to him, that all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry. He wanted to become invisible.

But, more than anything, he wanted to hurt someone back.

"I don't care what you think about me you - you stupid little mudblood!" Regulus regretted it the moment that the words had left his mouth.

The room was completely silent.

Tears welled up into the smaller boys eyes almost immediately, and his lower lip trembled.

Francesco stood up from his desk and drew his wand, pointing it at Regulus's back.

"MR. ANDERSON!" Professor Bell shouted, giving Francesco a fiery glare. " _Put your wand away_."

Francesco narrowed his eyes at Professor Bell, but slipped his wand back into the pocket of his robes nonetheless. Satisfied, Professor Bell whipped around to face Regulus.

"Mr. Black. There will be _absolutely_ _no_ language like that used in this classroom. Fifteen points from Slytherin, detention, and I will be having a talk with your head of house."

"He's a bloody Black, what did you expect," muttered Benjamin Stone.

"Mr. Stone. Five points from Gryffindor." Professor Bell said, but his gaze never left Regulus. "Am I understood, Mr. Black."

"Yes Professor," Regulus murmured, and he could feel the flush in his face.

Professor Bell watched Regulus for a few more moments, and then turned back to the front of the room to finish the lesson. Regulus glanced over at Deacon, who had tear tracks on his pale cheeks.

He wanted to apologize to Deacon, but he knew that there was no taking back what he had said. What was even worse; Regulus didn't _know_ if he meant what he said. He should have meant it. It's what Deacon is, after all. But it just felt so... _wrong_.

When class ended, Deacon packed up his things and left as fast as he could. Barty walked over to stand next to Regulus's desk while he packed his things.

"Mr. Black, can I speak to you a moment?" Professor Bell asked, and Regulus's entire body tensed.

"I'll wait outside for you, Reg," Barty said, and he hesitantly left the classroom.

Once the door shut behind Barty, Professor Bell walked over and sat on the edge of Regulus's desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"The language that you used today towards Mr. Ackland was absolutely unacceptable," he began, and the guilt that Regulus had been feeling since the words left his mouth multiplied exponentially.

He stayed silent.

Professor Bell sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "I know that you grew up around language like that, Mr. Black. I know about your family." Regulus felt the flush return to his face, and he stared very hard at the grain of the wood on the desk before him. "However, I also don't think that you truly meant what you said."

Regulus looked up in shock, and met the eyes of Professor Bell. "I've met a few Black's in my time. Hell, I'm teaching, what, three of you this term? My point, Mr. Black, is that there are two very distinct types of your family that I have met. The ones like your parents, and the ones like your brother.

"I think that you, Regulus, fall into the category of your brother."

"You've met my parents?" Regulus asked, trying to dodge the revelation that Professor Bell had just given him.

"Once or twice, yes."

Regulus nodded slowly.

"I know how... hard, it can be to grow up in an environment such as the one that I am sure you grew up in. I know that it can be very difficult to see the correct side of things, when you grew up seeing nothing but the wrong side. But, it is not impossible."

Regulus stayed completely and utterly silent. What was Milo Bell saying?

Professor Bell uncrossed his arms and laid a gentle hand on Regulus's shoulder. "Don't give up on yourself, Mr. Black."

Regulus nodded, and Professor Bell stood up. "You may go. I'll send an owl with the time and place of your detention tomorrow."

Regulus swung his book bag over his shoulder and rushed out of the room. He was so deep in thought about everything that had been said to him, that he didn't even notice the person behind the door, who had been listening to the whole thing.

Milo Bell watched the door swing shut behind Regulus Black, and he let out a sigh. He made his way to his desk and fell heavily into his chair, opening the top right drawer and withdrawing the essay that he had received from Sirius Black the day before.

_If I could change one thing, I would have made sure that my little brother followed the same path as me. I would have taught him better. I would change the way that our parents treated us as children. I would have protected Regulus better. I would have put more effort into changing his mind and convincing him over the summer. It's what I want more than anything. I just want my little brother back. I just want Reggie back._


	9. The Act

The months at Hogwarts seemed to bleed together. Before they all knew it, Halloween had come and gone like just a normal day. After Halloween came Quidditch, which soon became the talk of the whole school. The first match was Gryffindor v. Slytherin, and - much to the disdain of the Slytherin's - Gryffindor won.

James Potter was the newest addition to the team, and he scored goals like it was the easiest thing in the world to him.

Regulus was quite enjoying his time at Hogwarts. He and Barty both managed to be tied for the best student in their whole year (followed very closely behind by Francesco Anderson, who never really shut up about it).

Potions had definitely turned out to be the most difficult class. Not because of the subject itself - which actually came quite easily to Regulus - but because of the competition of it all.

Barty and Regulus still had to share a table with Francesco and Deacon which, following the incident in Defense, became quite a hostile environment; even Slughorn seemed to avoid their table if he could.

After Regulus and Francesco learned about their natural talent for potion-making, every single potion became like a competition between the two of them. For solo potions, they would both get through the steps as quickly (while still being accurate and precise) as they could. Partner potions were an absolute nightmare for both Barty and Deacon, who didn't really care for or understand the feud between the two boys.

Barty didn't understand why Francesco was so mad about what had happened in Defense. "I mean, he _is_ a mudblood," Barty had said shortly after it had happened. "And besides, not like you said it to _him_. Why is _he_ so mad about it?"

Regulus thought that he knew exactly why Francesco was so mad about the whole thing; he wanted to protect Deacon.

Deacon, on the other hand, was practically _begging_ Francesco to let the whole thing go. "Fran, _please,_ just _let it go_ ," Deacon pleaded after three whole weeks had passed and the hostility between the two boys had only grown stronger.

"No, Dea, I'm not going to let it go! You _heard_ what he called you!" Francesco was pacing back and forth between the two boys's beds.

"Exactly, Fran, he said it to _me_! He called _me_ a mudblood or whatever that stupid word is! _Not_ you! So just _let it go_!"

"He's right," Benjamin Stone muttered from his bed, not looking up from his History of Magic homework.

"I don't care! It's-"

"Just _STOP_!" Deacon shouted. Fran and Benjamin both looked up from where they were in shock; Deacon had never really raised his voice before. "LET. IT. GO."

Since then, the hatred that Francesco felt for Regulus only intensified, and Deacon got progressively more annoyed.

By mid-November, Regulus noticed that the two boys were spending more and more time apart. Deacon would always try to separate himself from Francesco at meals, and they rarely ever talked in class.

_I wonder what's going on with them_ , Regulus thought to himself during breakfast on Tuesday, 21 November.

_No, stop thinking about them._

_But they've been practically inseparable since the start of term._

_Don't know why. Honestly, a pure-blood being best mates with a mudblood? Disgusting._

Regulus heaved a sigh and his eyes roved over the Gryffindor table, until they landed on the back of Sirius Black's head. He was pushing his food around his plate, but not really eating any of it.

Regulus cocked his head and furrowed his brow, scanning the table yet again; Remus Lupin was no where to be found.

_Actually, now that I think about it, this is like the fifth time that he's just mysteriously disappeared during term. Where does he go?_

"Hey, Reg, can I borrow your notes for Defense?" Barty asked, breaking Regulus's focus away from Sirius and his missing friend.

"Huh? Oh - uh - yeah, hang on," Regulus picked up his book bag and plopped it down onto his lap. He shuffled through his stacks of notes until he found the one for DADA, and passed it to Barty.

"Thanks!" Barty quickly started to copy his notes from the previous Friday - Barty had been absent from class that day because he had woken up with yet another terrible cold.

The apparent feud between Deacon and Francesco and the mysterious disappearance of Remus Lupin forgotten, Regulus soared through his classes like usual. When the final class of the day approached, Regulus let out a sigh of relief; he liked all of his classes, but he was utterly _exhausted_.

Regulus plopped down into his seat beside Deacon Ackland in Defense, and he didn't even give the smaller boy a second glance.

This had become quite customary in this class. Regulus would come in, sit down, and he and Deacon wouldn't speak or even look at each other for almost the entire time. Regulus also noticed that if he looked back, he could always catch Francesco glaring at him - as if he were daring Regulus to try something.

This particular day was no different. He dropped his book bag to the floor and dug out his notes, both boys staying completely silent. Regulus didn't really understand why Professor Bell hadn't separated the two boys after what had happened, but he assumed it was probably just optimism that they would "work through their issues".

Regulus started shuffling through his thick stack of Defense notes, trying to find where they had left off last, when suddenly-

"Hi," Deacon Ackland said, his voice as quiet and gentle as ever.

Regulus looked up, his mouth a gaping hole, and eyed the boy suspiciously. He remained completely silent.

"I just - er - uh..." Deacon trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly at Regulus. Finally, he took a deep breath and dropped both hands into his lap. "I'm sorry about Fran. He's been being really stupid,"

Regulus nodded slowly, still looking suspiciously at the other boy. Was this a joke?

"I just - well - yeah, I just wanted to say sorry. I asked him to stop being so mean and stuff, but-"

" _Why_?" Regulus asked, and he was just as shocked as Deacon was that he had said anything at all.

"Well - er - uh - like I said before, you know..." he trailed off, but Regulus knew exactly what he was talking about. "I said that I like seeing the best in people, you remember? You said it was a dangerous trait? Well, dangerous or not, I don't like to see people as inherently bad just because of what other people say about them or what their family is like." Deacon shrugged, and Regulus continued to nod his head slowly.

"I mean, look at me," he continued, "both of my parents are muggles, but, well, here I am. I'm not like them. I'm not like them at all," Regulus suspected that Deacon was trying to say this last part more to himself than to Regulus, and he thought fleetingly of asking him about it.

As if he had read his mind, Deacon continued. "My parents are not really the - er - _nicest_ , of people. I mean, they're probably the very type of people that started the whole wizards-hate-muggles thing,"

Regulus was still silent. Why was Deacon saying all of this to him? So, he asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

Deacon flushed and cleared his throat. "Well, I don't... I don't really know. I just - I still don't think you're as bad of a person as you think you are."

There it was; the optimism and positivity that Regulus had never experienced before. "How do you know?" Regulus asked, though this time he said it in a _much_ less aggressive tone than the last time that those very words had left his mouth.

Deacon seemed to notice this, too, for his grin widened by the smallest little bit. "I don't. But, I _have_ grown up my whole life around people who put on an act in front of others. I know the signs, Regulus Black."

Regulus was shocked into silence. Was this boy, this - this... _mudblood_ , really trying to say that Regulus Black was trying to... to... well, what _was_ he trying to say?

"I just think that you grew up around people who told you how to act and when to do it. I think that what you're putting on right now, or how you act when you're with anyone else, really, is just that; an _act_. I don't think you meant what you said to me, I really don't. And, even if you did, I still believe that you can change and become the person that you are really, really deep inside."

"It's not an act," Regulus said defensively.

Deacon shrugged and turned back to his notes. "Ok, Regulus Black, whatever you say."

Regulus couldn't concentrate for the rest of class. Every time he would try to focus on what they were learning about, Deacon's words would echo through his mind.

Am _I just putting on an act?_

_No, of course not! I'm a Black, I'm not just putting on a silly little bad-guy act._

_But, it's all felt so weird since I got sorted Slytherin. And the meeting about working for the Dark Lord, I felt..._ guilty _, afterwards. And when I said what I said to Deacon, I felt really guilty, and I don't even know if I really meant it!_

_I'm not putting on an act. Everything just feels weird because I'm in a new environment with new people. It's not an act._

_It's not an act..._

However, Regulus never really did stop thinking about those words.

The following Friday, students were asked to tell their heads of houses if they would be staying at Hogwarts for the holiday or going home.

"What are you doing, James?" Sirius asked his best mate.

The four Gryffindor's were all sitting on their respective beds, all doing different things. Sirius was _supposed_ to be doing his Transfiguration essay, but he just couldn't seem to focus. James Potter was flipping through a Quidditch magazine, Peter Pettigrew was doing the reading for History of Magic, and Remus Lupin was just staring at the fabric canopy that covered his bed.

"Going home," James replied, and then he glanced at Peter. "What about you, Peter? Staying or leaving?"

"Leaving. Mum likes having me home for the holidays," Peter shrugged and turned to Remus. "Remus?"

"Think I'm gonna go home," Remus said, and he flipped onto his side so he was facing the room, "my dad wrote me asking if I wanted to. Couldn't really say no. Besides, the full moon's on the 20, and I don't really want to risk forgetting or something with all of the holiday cheer or whatever."

"Looks like you're the only one who'll be here, mate," James said, looking over at Sirius.

"Yeah..." Sirius trailed off and bit his lower lip. "Maybe I'll go home..." he mumbled.

"What?" Remus sat up, and the other two turned to Sirius in shock.

"I think I might go home for this one. Ya know... might be - er - nice..."

James raised an eyebrow. " _Nice_? Yeah, because your parents using torture curses on you is really _nice_. Really adds a little bit of spice to the holiday, doesn't it?"

Remus was eyeing Sirius suspiciously. "This doesn't happen to have anything to do with Regulus, does it?"

Sirius flushed and promptly turned back to his essay. "Well... no, I don't think. Er - uh - yeah, so what if it does?"

"Oh, come on Sirius! You said it yourself, your brother is just a stupid little tosser who's gonna end up working for you-know-who. Not really anything you can do about it, mate," James said, and he, too, was sitting up now.

"Yeah! And, you stayed here last Christmas, so why would you want to go back this year?" Peter added.

"I don't know, guys, ok? I just - I don't know. I feel like I should be there with Reg this year. Is that a _crime_?"

The other three looked at each other, and then began to shake their heads one-by-one. "It's not, but..." Remus trailed off.

"Mate, I know that you wanna be there for your little brother, ok? I get it. Well, I don't, because I don't have any siblings, but it could be _seriously_ dangerous for you!" James said.

"Yeah, what if they use the _Cruciatus_ on you again?" Remus asked, his voice lilted with concern.

Sirius shrugged. "If things get _really_ bad, I'll just come to one of yours. Worst case scenario, I die and my ickle baby brother is traumatized for the rest of his life."

"This isn't a _joke_!" Remus said at exactly the same time that James burst into laughter.

"I mean, would Regulus even really _care_...?" Peter asked, and the whole room fell into silence.

Sirius felt his heart drop, and Remus and James both shot Peter their fiercest glares. "I just mean that - well - er - you've been... you've been saying he's evil and basically making him out to be the worst person in the whole world for the whole term!" Peter was frantically trying to back track, and his plump face was turning pink. "You heard what he said to that first year! He called him a... _that_ word, _in_ class!"

"That doesn't mean he just _wouldn't_ _care_ ," James said, his voice laced with anger.

"No, no, Pete's right. You're right, Pete. It was stupid. I'll just stay here. Anyone know anyone else who's staying here for the holidays?"

"I heard that Frank Longbottom was," James replied.

The four boys all fell back into a normal conversation, but Sirius couldn't stop thinking about his brother. He didn't know why, or what had brought it on. Peter was right, Sirius had been talking smack about Regulus for the _entire term_! The brothers hadn't even _talked_ since the sorting! As far as Sirius was concerned, Regulus was as good as dead to him.

So why did Sirius feel such a strong need to be with his little brother for the holiday...

It was Thursday, 14 December.

The train would be leaving the next day for all of the students who were going home for the holiday. The castle was absolutely buzzing with excitement. That day had been the last day of classes, and all of the students were either relaxing in their common rooms, or else looking at the decorations that covered the castle.

Hagrid could be seen bringing large evergreen trees from the grounds into the castle, and Flitwick and McGonagall spent most of their time decorating the trees using several spells. Regulus was wandering the halls by himself (Barty was tired, so he headed up to bed early that night), and had completely lost track of time.

Before he knew it, he was in a part of the castle that he had never been before, and it was well past the curfew. Regulus didn't exactly know how or why he had ended up here; he didn't even know why he left the common room in the first place.

Actually, he did. He would be returning to 12 Grimmauld Place the next day. This meant no friends, no magic, and no distractions from what his parents ultimately expected of him for three whole weeks.

Regulus would never admit it to anyone, but he was terrified to be around his parents for that long again. He hadn't seen either of them in almost four whole months, and now he would have to spend three weeks alone with them.

No Sirius, just Orion, Walburga, and Regulus Black.

He was so deep in thought - thinking so hard about what would become of him if he stepped even the slightest bit out of line with all of the pressure that they were putting onto him since Sirius had been practically disowned - that he ran right into someone.

The boy who Regulus had run into stumbled a few feet back, and Regulus fell right onto the floor.

"Sorry! I didn't - oh. It's you." Sirius Black stared down at his little brother, and his eyes went cold the second he realized who he had been apologizing to.

Regulus stood up and brushed off his robes, staring at Sirius; he noticed that Sirius was holding two sacks full of something that smelled distinctly like sandwiches and tarts.

"What are you doing down here?" Sirius asked, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

"What are _you_ doing down here?" Regulus retorted, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's past curfew."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "What are you, Prefect? Gonna go tattle on me to Mr. Filch. Or, better yet, are you gonna go home and complain to mummy dearest and that dirty old elf."

Regulus was quite taken aback by the hostility coming from his brother, but he managed to remain stone-faced. Last time he had spoken to Sirius was the first day of term, and they had been no where _near_ this hostile to one another then. Why was Sirius acting like this?

_Well_ , thought Regulus, _I guess he is pretty upset that I got Slytherin..._

_He has no right to be upset._

_He's just afraid that I'm gonna turn out like mum and dad..._

_I will. I'm gonna be just like mother and father. I'm going to be a great wizard, just like them!_

"Well, if you don't mind, ickle Reggie-kins, I have to go," Sirius started past Regulus, and it took everything inside of himself to not beg for him to come back and talk to him.

And, unfortunately, everything that he had just wasn't enough.

"Sirius!" Regulus shouted, and Sirius spun around on his heels. Regulus saw his hand instinctively reach toward the pocket where Regulus assumed he kept his wand, and he felt his heart drop. "I just - er - I wouldn't tell mother, ya know."

Sirius stared at Regulus in silence for a few seconds. Regulus suddenly felt quite embarrassed, and he scuffed the tip of his trainer on the flagstone floor. "I just mean that - uh - I don't... I guess I don't really know what I mean..."

Sirius nodded slowly, and he took a few slow steps towards Regulus, until they were a mere few feet apart. The two brothers made eye contact, and they each noticed a few slight differences in the other.

Regulus noticed that Sirius's hair was growing out again, and it was already longer than his own. His face appeared to have more color to it, and his eyes were a bluish-grey color. He had also grown slightly, so he was now one or two inches taller than Regulus.

Sirius noticed that Regulus's hair _hadn't_ really grown. Well, of course it had, but Regulus must have been finding a way to cut it himself to keep it relatively the same length. The thing that warmed Sirius's heart the most about his brothers new appearance, was that his eyes were now less grey and more blue.

He hadn't seen Regulus without icy grey eyes since the boys were six and seven years old and were playing with a new broom that Sirius had received in the sitting room of Number 12.

Regulus saw Sirius's eyes soften, and Sirius saw Regulus's eyes do the same.

For right then, in that moment, they were just two brothers again.

But, every moment must come to an end.

Regulus snapped back to reality, and he quickly straightened his posture again. "I just meant that, uh, why would mother want to know that you were - uh - out of bed."

Sirius nodded slowly. "Sure you did, Reg."

"I did!" Regulus said defensively.

Sirius threw his hands up in the air (though, he forgot that he was holding the sacks, so the bottles of butterbeer that were hidden within clinked against one another) and took a few steps back. "Bye, Reg. Have a good holiday."

"I'll try," Regulus said before he could catch himself, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I mean - er - yeah, yeah of course I will. I'll be away from _you_ , won't I?"

A smirk played on Sirius's mouth. Regulus took a deep breath. Why was he being so defensive all of a sudden?

"You too," Regulus said stiffly.

Sirius turned around and headed away, leaving Regulus alone in the dark corridor. The protective feeling that he had been feeling over Regulus for the past few days was now back, and it was stronger than ever. He still didn't know why he had it, _or_ what had brought it on, _or_ why it meant that he felt the need to be with Regulus during Christmas.

But it did.

The fear that had flashed in Regulus's eyes for a split second when Sirius had brought up their mother had just solidified what Sirius had been debating since November.

He needed to go back to Grimmauld Place for Christmas.


	10. Christmas at Grimmauld Place

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in her office late on the evening of 14 December; she was grading a stack of essays that she had received from her fourth years. Just as she was looking up at the clock to check the time, she heard a frantic knocking on her office door.

She stood up and walked swiftly to the door, wand in hand. When she opened the door and laid eyes upon a breathless Sirius Black, to say she was shocked would be an understatement.

"Professor!" He said, and he quickly walked into her office without an invitation.

"Mr. Black! This is _highly_ inappropriate! It is _half past ten_ _at night_! What on _earth_ do you think you're doing? _What_ is in those bags?!" McGonagall was becoming increasingly more worried with every sentence that left her mouth.

She shut her office door and walked stiffly to her seat at the other side of the desk. She sank into it and fixed Sirius with a very stern gaze.

"Oh, come on, Professor! Don't pretend you don't like this little late night visit from your favorite student!" Sirius smirked.

McGonagall took her spectacles off and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. "What do you want, Mr. Black?"

The smirk melted from his face, and he suddenly looked quite... well... _serious_. "I need to go home tomorrow. For Christmas."

"Mr. Black, the lists have already been made. You told me that you wanted to stay here, so I am afraid that that is what must happen. I'm sorry." McGonagall said. She placed her glasses back onto her nose and turned back to the stack of essays. "Anything else?"

Sirius Black was silent.

McGonagall looked up at him, and she sighed. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well... it's just, my - er - my little brother. I feel like I should be there with him. I feel like I should spend the holiday with him," he was staring down at his lap now, fiddling with his hands.

"And... why have you only come to this decision _now_?"

Sirius shifted in his seat and looked up, meeting eyes with McGonagall. "I talked to him." McGonagall stayed silent a moment, waiting for Sirius to expand; he didn't. "Please. I _need_ to be there with him."

She eyed him a moment and then sighed, pulling open the drawer to her left. Sirius watched as Minerva McGonagall's eyes roved over the parchment before her; she reached Sirius's name and crossed something out, quickly scrawling _going home_ in its place. She tucked the parchment safely back into the drawer and closed it.

"Was that all, Mr. Black?"

Sirius was absolutely beaming. "Thank you, Professor! Yes, uh, yes, that was it! Thank you!" Sirius Black stood up and darted out of the office, and out of sight.

McGonagall shook her head and turned back to the essays in front of her, a small smile playing on her lips.

The next morning, the castle was bustling with students who were getting ready to go home for the holiday. Regulus and Barty both had their bags packed full of everything that they would need for their brief amount of time away from the school.

However, neither boy _really_ wanted to leave the castle.

The train ride was long and boring; there was really nothing to do. Both boys had resorted to getting a head start on their holiday homework, which did, indeed, take up most of the time. Barty fell asleep halfway through, sprawled out across the upholstery bench across from Regulus.

When Regulus had finished his homework, he shoved everything back into his bag and looked out of the window. He watched the landscape outside whir past; watched as their surroundings melted from forests, to small villages, to empty and vast plains.

The night sky was growing darker, and it was almost pitch black outside by the time the Hogwarts Express reached Kings Cross station.

Barty had woken up a few minutes before they reached the station, and was still quite delirious when the two boys stepped onto the busy platform.

"There's my dad," Barty muttered, and Regulus looked to where he was pointing. Bartemius Crouch was a tall, lean man who had a bushy black mustache resting on his upper lip, a top hat, and a permanent sneer. "Guess I'll see you in a few weeks."

"Bye, have a happy Christmas." Regulus replied.

"Yeah, you too,"

Regulus stared at Barty's retreating back for a few seconds, and then turned to find his own parents.

He had only been looking around for a few brief moments when he felt a firm hand clap onto his shoulder. Regulus practically jumped out of his skin, and he watched as Remus Lupin, James Potter, and the boy who's name Regulus had since learned was Peter Pettigrew, poured past them.

"Have a happy Christmas, mates!" Sirius Black said, a hearty grin on his face.

"You too," Peter squeaked, and he quickly scurried off to find his mother.

"Yeah, mate, have a good one. I'll write you!" James Potter replied before he, too, turned to find his parents.

"Bye, Sirius. Have a good holiday," Remus's eyes flashed to the younger Black brother for a moment, and then he turned his eyes back to Sirius. _"Be safe,"_ Regulus saw him mouth, and then he turned and left.

Regulus spun around and met eyes with his brother, who's grin didn't falter. "Well, come on Reggie, won't find mother and father just _standing_ here, now will we?" he started directing Regulus into the thick crowd, but he protested.

"What are you doing here?" Regulus asked, and Sirius cocked his head. "I thought you were staying at Hogwarts for the holiday?"

Sirius shrugged. "Had a change of heart, I guess. Come on, don't need to give mother and father _another_ reason to be cross with me," and Regulus let him lead him through the sea of people.

Deep down, Regulus was quite glad that Sirius had come. Maybe, being this far away from the school meant that the brothers could get along again. Maybe they would be able to talk and have fun together, this far away from the pressures put on both of them from their respective houses.

However, Regulus knew that they were stepping into a whole _new_ set of pressures. A much more _dangerous_ set of pressures.

Though, these pressures definitely didn't weigh down on Sirius as much as they did on Regulus. Ever since Sirius's sorting, all of the pressure to uphold the family name had been put onto Regulus. It was as though everything had changed overnight - which, really, it had.

Regulus and Sirius wove through all of the people that crowded the platform, looking around for any sign of Walburga or Orion Black. It took a few minutes of wandering and searching, but the boys eventually found their father, Orion Black.

He was waiting behind the large crowd, and was waiting near the small corner that was the Apparation zone. He studied the two boys a moment, his eyes lingering the longest on Sirius. He seemed quite surprised that Sirius was there at all, but did well at hiding it.

"Come," Orion said, and he guided the boys to the Apparation zone.

Without another word, he gripped onto his two sons and apparated away. Regulus felt the familiar twist of his stomach that came along with side-along apparation; he _definitely_ had not missed this feeling.

Orion landed on the front stoop of Number 12 and promptly dropped the arms of both of his sons. He opened the front door and stepped into the dark, cold entrance hallway of the house.

Regulus and Sirius eyed each other, and they knew that they were both thinking the same thing; _I would rather be anywhere else than here_.

Sirius was the first to step over the threshold; he gave Regulus one last reassuring look, and then disappeared through the dark door frame. Regulus took a deep breath, steadying himself, before following after his older brother.

It took Regulus's eyes a few minutes to adjust to the darkness, which was normal when returning to the dreary confines of Number 12. Sirius could be seen walking up the long flight of stairs, and Walburga and Orion Black were no where to be seen.

Regulus took a deep breath, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell that he breathed in; he hadn't breathed in that scent in almost four months.

A sudden sense of longing overcame Regulus; he wanted to go back to Hogwarts.

"Master Regulus is home!" Kreacher croaked, rushing out of the kitchen and flapping his big ears happily.

Regulus smiled down at the old elf. "Hi, Kreacher! Would you mind taking my bag up to my room for me? We can play a game of Exploding Snap if you aren't too busy," Regulus suggested.

"Yes, Master Regulus! Kreacher is be bringing Master Regulus's bag up to his room and is to be waiting there!" The elf hopped happily from foot to foot, grabbed the strap of Regulus's bag - which he handed him happily - and disappeared with a loud _CRACK!_

Regulus glanced around the room, seeing if there were any visible differences to the old house. The troll-leg umbrella stand was still sitting beside the door, which had a large black umbrella sticking out of it. There was a long, dark green runner rug that extended all the way down the narrow hallway beside the stairs, which ceased at the door into the sitting room.

Regulus was about halfway up the first staircase when the door to the sitting room swung open. Regulus peeked over the bannister curiously, looking for who it was that had opened the door so violently.

"Well why would you _bring him along_?" a woman hissed.

"Well, I couldn't very well leave him there, could I?" Orion Black responded, his voice a low, threatening tone.

The woman was silent, and Regulus expected that she must be giving Orion a skeptical look, for Orion quickly responded, "He would tell his little disgusting friends, or he would contact Dumbledore, who would contact the Ministry, and then what?"

"You know as well as I do how much this news will anger him! _You knew the plans_!"

"We can move it to Malfoy Manor,"

"You _know_ that he - ah, hello, cousin." The woman had stepped out from the shadows that the first floor landing casted, and her eyes landed upon Regulus.

Regulus recognized the wild, bushy, curly hair and the insanity behind her eyes almost instantly; Bellatrix Lestrange.

Orion Black stepped out of the shadows quickly, wand raised, obviously expecting to find Sirius. When he laid eyes upon Regulus, however, he lowered his wand and narrowed his eyes.

"Go to your room, Regulus," said Orion calmly, adjusting his clothes and staring coldly at his youngest son.

"Yes, father," Regulus said quickly, not wanting to push his luck with his father.

He turned and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached his room. Regulus opened the door and pushed it shut behind him, immediately starting to pace in a small circle before his bed.

What had his father and Bellatrix been talking about? Who was he? It couldn't be... no... could it?

"Is Master Regulus ready to play?" Kreacher asked, wringing his hands and flapping his ears nervously.

Regulus snapped out of the headspace that he had gone into, and his eyes landed upon Kreacher. The old elf was standing on a chair in the corner of Regulus's room, and behind him on a small table, was a pile of cards.

"Yes, sorry Kreacher," Regulus hastened over to the chair on the other side of the table from Kreacher, and Kreacher seemed pleased.

That night, long after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, Regulus was laying awake in bed. He was staring up at the canopy above his bed, one arm behind his head and the other laying across his stomach.

_What were father and Bellatrix talking about earlier?_

_It's none of my business._

_But... but who is_ he _? Is it... is it the Dark Lord?_

_Of course it is! Who else would it be? Maybe I'll get to meet him!_

_They were talking about Sirius._

_Who cares about Sirius?! I could meet the_ Dark Lord _!_

_But, what if he's-_

_The Dark Lord is a blessing to the wizarding world. He will be as wonderful as mother and father have said he is. He's a roll model._

Regulus fell asleep that night with visions in his mind of the Dark Lord; the savior of the wizarding world.

Christmas was never a large ordeal at Number 12; they never even got a tree. Ever since the boys were younger, Orion and Walburga Black would just put a pile of presents in the corner of the sitting room instead of underneath a tree like normal families. There was no decorating, no special Christmas baking or cooking; to the Black family, Christmas was just like every other day - well, with the addition of a few presents.

This year was no different.

Regulus awoke on Christmas morning completely drenched in sweat, despite the freezing temperatures outside; he had had yet another nightmare the night before. This was starting to become quite a normal occurrence, so Regulus recovered fairly quickly.

He got out of bed, and a shiver ran through his spine when his feet touched the ice cold hardwood floor beneath him. He shivered and rubbed his upper arms quite vigorously, making his way over to the large wardrobe in the corner of his room.

Regulus quickly changed into a clean pair of pyjamas, throwing the ones that he had been wearing into the small basket where Kreacher would come to clean them later. Regulus grabbed his robe off of the back of his door and wrapped it tightly around himself, trying to warm himself up.

When Regulus reached the sitting room downstairs, it was to find Walburga Black sitting in a chair before the fire. She had one leg crossed over the other, a saucer in one hand, and a tea cup in the other. She brought the tea cup to her lips and looked up as Regulus entered the room.

"Good morning, Regulus," she said, placing the tea cup onto the saucer and then putting both of them onto the small table at her side.

"Good morning, mother," Regulus responded, and he sat down on the dark green couch - which was much less comfortable than Regulus remembered it.

"The presents are in the corner," Walburga said, picking a book off of the shelf to her right and opening to the first page.

"Where's Sirius?" Regulus blurted out before he could think about it.

Walburga's lips formed a very thin line, and she looked up at him with disgust etched into her pale features. "Your disgusting brother will not be joining us," Walburga said simply, and she turned back to her book.

Regulus was quiet a moment. "And father?"

"Out,"

Regulus nodded slowly, knowing that his mother wouldn't be telling him anything else. He stood up and sat down on the floor in the corner before the pile of presents, slowly tearing the paper from each one. However happy Regulus was with the gifts that he was receiving, he just couldn't seem to get his brother out of his mind.

That afternoon, Regulus was staring at the pile of gifts on his desk. He had his knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, and chin rested on the tops of his knees.

Walburga and Orion Black hadn't strayed from their traditional Christmas gifts. Regulus had received a brand new set of robes, loads more parchment and ink, new quills, a new Slytherin scarf and tie, a new book bag with the Black family crest, a new pair of gloves, a new pair of shoes, and, the biggest gift, a new broom.

The broom rested against his desk on one side, and he stared at it longingly; Regulus had always loved flying. He knew, however, that there was really no way he would get to use it until next year; first years weren't allowed brooms at school, and Regulus couldn't really just go flying around a muggle neighborhood like Grimmauld Place.

He thought fleetingly of how excited Sirius would've been to get a broom for Christmas.

Sirius.

Where was Sirius?

Regulus turned his head, keeping his chin in contact with his knees, and looked at the door; it was as though he expected Sirius to just come through the door at any moment. After a few minutes of staring - waiting for... well, he didn't really know what he was waiting for - he unfolded his legs and sat cross legged instead.

"Kreacher!" he called, and the elf appeared before him seconds later.

"Yes, Master Regulus? What is you be needing?" Kreacher croaked.

"Where is Sirius, Kreacher?"

Kreacher got a disgusted look on his old, wrinkled face, "Kreacher is not being knowing where the blood-traitor is."

"Did mother and father... did they... say, anything? About where he might be?"

"Kreacher has not heard his Mistress or Master Orion saying the location of Master Regulus's brother."

"Ok..." Regulus furrowed his brows; where could Sirius _be_? "Thank you, Kreacher."

Kreacher nodded and disappeared. Regulus sat on his bed for a few minutes, wallowing in the silence. Walburga had left a few hours before - to where, Regulus was unsure - which meant that, as far as he knew, he was completely alone in the house; aside from Kreacher, of course.

Regulus, without giving it any further thought, stood up and left his bedroom. It was only when he was standing in front of Sirius's bedroom door that he realized how stupid of an idea this was. For all Regulus knew, Sirius could've just gone out for the day.

But he just felt that something was... _off_. Regulus took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, reaching out a hand and twisting the knob on Sirius's bedroom door.

The room was not how Regulus expected it to look; he hadn't been inside of his brother's room since before Sirius had left for Hogwarts.

The walls were absolutely covered in Gryffindor banners, posters of various muggle women, motorbikes, and muggle bands, and it appeared that he had magicked his bed spread to be maroon instead of deep green. Regulus stepped over the clutter that was strewn across the floor, and noticed the stack of letters on Sirius's desk.

Regulus knew that he should've turned around, but he was just so _curious_. So, he walked over to the desk, grabbed the first piece of folded parchment, and his eyes roved the paper.

_Dear Sirius,_

_Mate, that sounds awful! I could never put up with that. If it were me in that situation, I would have left on the second day! Does Regulus know? Probably does, doesn't he? Stupid little blighter. Well, you know you're welcome to come to mine; mum and dad would love the company!_   
_My holiday has been alright. Mum's been harassing me every single day about how I need to try harder in school, but honestly! I don't need an education to become the greatest Quidditch player known to man, do I?_   
_Anyways, other than that, it's been good being back home. God, I missed my mum's cooking! Perhaps you could come visit over the break? Or over the summer? I'd love for my mum and dad to get to know my best mate!_   
_Well, I have to go, mum just called me for dinner._   
_BE CAREFUL!_   
_Stop trying to get information, Sirius, they could do so much worse than the Cruciatus. It's not worth it._   
_I'll mention the meeting to mum and dad, see if they can do anything. But seriously, mate, be safe and stay out of their way. Best stay out of Regulus's way, too; don't want the little tosser getting you into trouble._   
_Have a happy Christmas._

_-J.P._

Regulus furrowed his brow as he reached the end of the letter. Did he know _what_? What meeting was whoever wrote this letter talking about? _Where the hell was Sirius_?

Just as Regulus was thinking about the letter that he still had clutched in his hands, a tapping on the window distracted him.

He looked up and saw an owl sitting on the windowsill, a letter tied to its leg. Regulus hastened over and opened the window, letting the owl fly into the room; the cold breeze of air that followed sent a chill through Regulus, but he ignored it.

He untied the letter from the owl's leg and dropped a knut - which he found deep in the pocket of his robe - into the small pouch around its other leg.

The owl gave a grateful _hoot_ and flew out of the window. Regulus stared down at the letter; _Sirius Black_ was written messily on the envelope, as if whoever had written it was in a rush.

Regulus glanced quickly around the room - as though he expected Sirius to pop out somewhere and yell at him for opening his mail. Satisfied that Sirius was no where to be seen, Regulus ran a thumb under the flap of the envelope and neatly broke the seal.

The letter that was inside was obviously written in a hurry, for all of the words seemed to blend together in the writer's haste.

_DO NOT GO! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, SIRIUS, SERIOUSLY! YOU COULD GET SERIOUSLY HURT! IT COULD BE DANGEROUS!_   
_DO. NOT. GO!!!!!!!_   
_WE DON'T CARE ABOUT THE STUPID MEETING, YOU CAN'T JUST GO RUNNING OFF TO MALFOY MANOR ALL WILLY NILLY! YOU COULD GET KILLED!!!!!_   
_GO TO THE POTTERS, OR PETER'S HOUSE, OR, HELL, COME HERE IF YOU HAVE TO! BUT WHATEVER YOU DO, DO. NOT. GO. TO. MALFOY. MANOR! IT'S NOT WORTH IT!_   
_AND FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, SIRIUS, TALK TO REGULUS! HE'S THE WHOLE BLOODY REASON YOU'RE THERE!_

_-MOONY_

Alarms went up all throughout Regulus's mind. What on earth was going on? What meeting? Then, as if a flood gate had been opened, memories of the conversation he had heard between his father and Bellatrix came pouring out.

_We can move it to Malfoy Manor._

But... if Regulus was right... and they were talking about the Dark Lord, then...

"Regulus!" Walburga Black's voice sounded through the house, and Regulus felt a chill run down his spine that was completely unrelated to the cold. "Regulus, get down here!"

Regulus shoved the letter from "moony" - whoever the bloody hell that was - deep into the pocket of his robe and hastened out of Sirius's room.

He ran down the stairs, his thick socks causing him to nearly slip on the wood several times, until he reached the entrance hallway where his mother was standing.

"Come along, Regulus," she gripped her youngest sons elbow and pulled him towards the front door.

"Where are we going?" Regulus asked, not bothering to fight her grip.

Walburga side eyed him and swung open the front door, pulling Regulus along with her onto the front stoop. "The Dark Lord would like to meet his newest recruits," before Regulus could protest, he felt that familiar twisting in his stomach.

With a _CRACK!_ , Regulus and Walburga Black were gone. The Christmas carolers walking by the house heard the sound of apparation and looked around, unable to see the now-empty front stoop of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.


	11. New Recruits

Sirius Black had told his mother that he was to be staying at a friends for the day. To his surprise, Walburga Black didn't seem to care; in fact, it was as if she were almost... _encouraging_ him to do it.

Of course, he knew why.

He had been listening in on his parents's conversation's since the start of the break - _much_ to the displeasure of James and Remus. He didn't know everything, obviously, but he did know that there was a meeting with the Dark Lord and his followers at Malfoy Manor on Christmas day.

Sirius could never listen for too long at a time without risking being found, and he hadn't been able to listen in the past week, but he didn't think that mattered very much.

He wrote to James and Remus about his plan; he was going to go to Malfoy Manor.

What he was going to do there, he wasn't necessarily sure; but he knew that he had to do _something_.

So, he told Walburga Black that he would be staying with a friend for the day.

Sirius left Number 12 Grimmauld Place at seven that morning; it was hours before Regulus would be waking up, which he didn't really mind. Sirius didn't _want_ to speak with his brother.

In fact, he hadn't spoken to Regulus at all since they arrived at Platform 9¾. He knew that he ought to talk to him, but he was just so busy thinking about everything that he had overheard about the meeting, that it just kind of slipped his mind.

Sirius took the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley, and he bought some snacks from Tom, the barman of the Leaky Cauldron. Once he was satisfied that he would have enough food for his adventure, he summoned the Knight Bus again, and directed them to Wittshire, England.

Wittshire was quite a ways away from London, and it was reaching one in the afternoon by the time he got there.

Sirius stepped off of the bus and into the small town of Wittshire; he had never been to the town itself before, and he knew that he had a few hours until the meeting started, so he took his time exploring.

He didn't have any muggle money, which meant that he couldn't really buy anything. So, instead, he settled down on a bench in a lovely little park and ate one of the sandwiches that he had purchased from Tom.

_I should write James and Remus to update them._

Sirius pulled a piece of parchment from his bag and ripped it in half. Precariously balancing the sandwich, bits of parchment, and ink on his legs, he scrawled two quick notes.

_James,_

_Made it to Wittshire. Eating lunch. Will update you, if I make it out alive._

_-Sirius_

_Moony,_

_I'm in Wittshire. I'm eating lunch in this lovely little park that I found, there's even a duck pond! I know you're worried, but don't worry, I'll be fine. I mean, I grew up around my parents, didn't I? I'll write you when I get somewhere where I can._

_-Sirius_

Satisfied with the notes, he folded them up and placed them onto the bench next to him.

_Blast. I can't send them without an owl._

Sirius sighed and shoved the two bits of parchment into the bottom of his bag, along with his ink and quill.

He finished eating his sandwich shortly after that, and went to check the time in a local coffee shop. It was already half past four, and he knew that it would take him at _least_ two hours to get to the Manor.

Malfoy Manor lay on the very outskirts of Wittshire, so it was quite a long walk. He didn't want to take the bus straight to the Manor, though, because he knew that that would've been a dead giveaway.

So, he resorted to walking.

Sirius arrived at the front gates of Malfoy Manor at around seven o'clock in the evening; it was already dark out by the time he arrived. Sirius hopped the fence 'round the side of the house, and crouched in a thick bush.

And he waited.

Regulus Black stumbled when he and his mother arrived at their destination. His socks were instantly soaked as he sunk into the pile of snow that he had landed in.

Walburga reached out and grabbed her son's arm to steady him, and then smoothed the front of her dress. "Come along, Regulus. We mustn't keep the Dark Lord waiting," and she led him through the front gates...

The front gates of Lestrange Manor.

Regulus looked at the plaque that read _Lestrange_ , which was stuck on one of the brick pillars that held the gate.

_I thought the meeting was at Malfoy Manor?_

He was shivering uncontrollably by the time he and his mother reached the front door. Walburga had barely knocked twice when the door swung open.

Bellatrix Lestrange looked as wild as ever. Her curly hair was falling every which way, and her eyes had that familiar twinge of insanity that she had been carrying in them for the past few years.

"Welcome!" Bellatrix stepped back so that Regulus and Walburga could enter, and closed the door tightly behind them. "Right this way!" She was practically skipping as she led them to the parlor down the hall.

Walburga side-eyed her son, who was still shivering. "Stop that," she hissed, "and straighten your posture. You're meeting _the Dark Lord._ "

"Yes mother," Regulus said through chattering teeth, and he tried his best to stop shivering.

When the two Black's entered the parlor, it was completely packed. Walburga led Regulus over to where Orion Black was standing, hands clasped in front of himself.

Regulus looked 'round the room and saw quite a few familiar faces. Evan Rosier was standing before his father, Wilfred Rosier, opposite where Regulus stood. Corban Yaxley was standing beside his mother, Ferula Yaxley, with Gillian Fairman hanging on his arm. Narcissa Black was on the arm of her fiancé, Lucius Malfoy, who was standing beside his mother.

Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Avery, Mulciber, Rookwood, Snape, Macnair, Selwyn, and Travers were all standing with their parents, as well. Most of the younger students in the room were in a similar state to Regulus; pyjamas, socks, and no where near what their parents would normally consider "presentable".

"Is this the last one?" A raspy voice asked, and Regulus's head whipped around to where it was coming from.

There, sitting in a chair, was who he assumed to be the Dark Lord. He was quite a handsome looking man, but it appeared that his features had become almost... distorted, over time. He was pale, thin, and had perfectly styled black hair. His eyes were a deep shade of black, but it appeared that they had an almost red tint to them.

"Yes, my lord. All of the ones who can make it," Yaxley responded, tilting his head up slightly. "One of them is a Ministry official's son, so he won't be able to make it. We will tell him what you say though, my lord, do not fret."

"Very good..." the Dark Lord looked around the room, taking in every single new face that there was. His eyes stopped on Severus Snape, and he cocked his head, an amused smile playing on his pale lips. "You. Come here."

Severus looked fleetingly at his mother, Eileen Prince, who nudged him forward.

Regulus watched as Severus stepped into the empty space before the Dark Lord and bowed his head. "My lord," Snape said.

"You're good at Occlumency. Tell me, Severus, where did you learn such a skill?"

Severus stood from his bow and furrowed his brow. "Whatever do you mean, my lord?"

The Dark Lord nodded his head slowly, "So you're a natural."

Everyone in the room seemed to be confused about this; what the bloody hell was Occlumency?

Everyone, that is, except for Regulus.

During the year that he had spent without Sirius, when he would borrow books from his mother's library and read them, he had read about Occlumency. It was the art of blocking one's mind from Legilimency, which was basically the reading of someone else's mind.

So, Severus Snape was a natural Occlumens? That was surprising.

Regulus had had very few interactions with Severus Snape in the months that they had been attending Hogwarts together. Severus just seemed... _ordinary_. There was really nothing special about him.

Well, apparently there was.

"I, myself, am a Legilimens," the Dark Lord continued, "a very talented Legilimens. But I just can not seem to get into that head of yours. Tell me, Severus, what are you thinking about?"

All eyes were on Severus Snape, who managed to remain completely stone-faced. "How wonderful you are, my lord. I look up to you. I am extremely excited for this special opportunity to be working for you."

The Dark Lord seemed to ponder this answer for a moment. "You do not know when Occlumency and Legilimency are, do you, Severus Snape?"

Severus straightened his posture. "No, my lord, I do not."

"Regulus Black," the Dark Lord started, and he - along with every single other pair of eyes in the room - turned to face Regulus, "you know what they are, do you not?"

Regulus swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat. "Yes. Er - uh - yes, _my lord_."

"Care to tell Severus, here?" The Dark Lord gestured towards Severus with a bone-white wand, which made Severus recoil ever-so-slightly.

Regulus cleared his throat and stretched to his full height, trying to make his voice sound as formal as possible. "Legilimency is the art of reading another's mind, and Occlumency is the art of blocking one from reading their mind."

"Very good, Regulus Black. I'm quite impressed. Only a first year, and already with more knowledge than half of the people in this room."

Regulus had never felt so important in all of his life.

The other people in the room were all looking at him longingly; why didn't the Dark Lord ever praise _them_ like that?

"Thank you, my lord," Regulus replied, remaining stone-faced - though he was fighting the urge to smile.

The Dark Lord nodded, and a twisted smile appeared on his face. "You will be useful to me, Regulus Black, I can tell. You will be... _loyal_."

"Yes, my lord, I can assure you that I will be."

The Dark Lord nodded, and then he turned back to Severus. "Go back to your mother, Severus. We will speak more about your gift another time," and he waved a dismissive hand.

Severus Snape glowered at Regulus Black on his way back to his mother; how could this stupid little first year steal his spotlight like that!

"Now, my friends, down to business," the Dark Lord stood from his chair, and he walked around the circle of Death Eaters.

Orion Black clasped a hand firmly on either one of Regulus's shoulders.

"Yaxley, Macnair, have you gathered any _useful_ information?"

Corban Yaxley and Walden Macnair glanced at one another. "No, my lord, not yet. We have started making plans on how to get more information though, my lord," Macnair replied.

"And, what _plans_ might these be?"

"Well, my lord, we need to go about it in a delicate fashion. If we just start asking them outright, they will start to suspect something. We think that the Defense teacher this year may already be suspicious," answered Yaxley.

The Dark Lord paused and turned around very, very slowly, until he met the eyes of Corban Yaxley. His eyes narrowed, and Regulus could see Yaxley shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Milo Bell," the Dark Lord murmured, and Orion Black tightened his grip on Regulus's shoulders, causing a pain to shoot through his right arm; Regulus managed to only just keep himself from crying out.

"Yes, my lord, that is who is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year." Yaxley said.

The Dark Lord stayed silent, before returning to his seat. "You may all go, this meeting is over."

The others in the circle all glanced around at one another; the meeting was just... _over_?

Slowly, they all started to shuffle out of the parlor and out the front door. "Orion Black," the Dark Lord called after the three Black's retreating backs, "stay."

Walburga Black shot her husband a look that Regulus couldn't quite make out, and Orion retreated back into the parlor.

"Where is father going?" Regulus asked his mother when they had reached the front lawn of Lestrange Manor.

"None of our business, Regulus," and she gripped his arm, apparating away quickly.

When they appeared back on the front stoop of Number 12, Walburga promptly led him inside. When the door was safely shut behind them, she turned around to face Regulus.

"Excellent job today, Regulus. You are already doing quite successfully at meeting our expectations," she paused, "I am proud to have you as a son."

Regulus felt a warmth rise up inside of himself; his mother had _never_ said she was proud of him!

Perhaps working for the Dark Lord really _wouldn't_ be so bad.

Orion Black heard the last _CRACK!_ of apparation, and he knew that he and the Dark Lord were alone. Well, apart from the Lestrange's, but they had been ordered to stay as far away from the parlor as possible while Orion was still there.

The Dark Lord had a cold look on his face, and Orion could see that the red tint in his eyes had grown more prominent. "I told you to take care of him, did I not, Orion?"

"Yes, my lord, you did, but-" Orion started, but the Dark Lord silenced him.

"Then why, Orion Black, is he teaching at Hogwarts School?"

"I did not take care of him, my lord. He went into hiding before I could. He knew - knew what you asked me to do. He ran before I could catch him."

"And, what will you do with the knowledge that he has now assumed a post at Hogwarts?"

Orion straightened his posture and stared at the Dark Lord with a look of determination. "I am going to kill him, my lord."

Sirius Black had fallen asleep in the bush outside of Malfoy Manor. He had been waiting for hours, it had to be after midnight by the time he fell asleep.

He woke up at two o'clock in the morning.

He uncurled himself from the ball that he had been in, wincing at the stiffness of his spine and neck.

_Bugger._

Sirius snuck out of the bush and over the fence that surrounded Malfoy Manor as silently as possible; if he got caught here, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be killed on the spot.

When he finally reached the road outside, summoned the Knight Bus, told the driver his destination, and sat down, he allowed himself to think.

The meeting never happened. He hadn't heard or seen _anything_. Had it been cancelled in the time that Sirius had stopped listening in?

Sirius contemplated these possibilities for a while, but eventually, he fell asleep.

When he awoke, it was to find the driver staring down at him curiously. "We're here, kid, get off."

Sirius nodded sleepily and stumbled off of the tall purple bus. He heard the _crack!_ of it disappearing, and he rubbed his eyes violently so as to focus his vision more.

It was dawn when he arrived in that small town. The sky was mixture of lavender and light pink, and Sirius admired the view for a few short minutes; it really was a beautiful sight.

His stomach growled, letting him know that he needed to get a move on.

Sirius reached into the pocket of his trousers and fished around for a bit until he found the slip of paper that he was looking for. It was small, wrinkled, and had a mysterious stain on the corner, but it was all he needed.

He started down along the sidewalk.

It took about ten minutes until he reached the house he was looking for, and he smiled to himself; it was quite a cute looking home. Huge plot of land, two stories, rather large, but cozy-looking nonetheless.

Sirius reached out and unlatched the small front gate, stepping onto the cobbled path that led up to the front stoop.

He made his way through the yard, admiring the nicely-cut lawn and flowerbeds. Sirius ascended the few short stairs that led onto the front porch, and he glanced around.

There were flower-boxes on each of the front windows, and a comfy-looking rocking chair on the corner of the porch with a light-yellow and white striped pillow on it.

Sirius opened the screen door and took a deep breath. He raised his fist and rapped on it quickly.

After a few seconds of silence, Sirius started shifting his weight from foot-to-foot; had he somehow ended up at the wrong place?

His worries were quickly extinguished when a tall woman answered the door. She was thin, pale, and had curly blonde hair. The thing that solidified Sirius's suspicions, however, was her eyes.

Sirius smiled to himself.

"Hello, can I help you?" She was wiping her hands on an apron and looking curiously at Sirius.

"Hi, Mrs. Potter, I'm Sirius. Is James around?"

That night, many hours after the occupants of Number 12 Grimmauld Place had fallen asleep, Kreacher was washing the clothes that had been dirtied that day.

It was while Kreacher was washing the laundry that he found a very peculiar letter buried deep in the pocket of his Master Regulus's robe.


	12. Conditioning and Manipulation

Regulus Black spent the rest of the holiday worrying about his older brother.

There were a few times where he almost broke and asked his parents where on earth Sirius was, but he always thought better of it; he _really_ didn't want to anger them.

Walburga Black had actually been treating Regulus relatively well since the meeting with the Dark Lord, and Regulus didn't want to ruin that.

He also just didn't want to get into Orion Black's way, for he was afraid that he would take out his tension on Regulus in the form of hexes and curses that Regulus couldn't even dream of.

Ever since the meeting at Lestrange Manor, Orion Black could be seen as particularly tense. He shut himself away in the sitting room or the library for hours on end, and he rarely even came down for meals; whatever the Dark Lord had said to him after the meeting, it had really gotten to him.

But none of these things answered Regulus's ultimate question; where the hell was Sirius?

In the absence of his brother, and the stress that it filled Regulus with, Regulus picked up his old habit of ripping and tearing the skin around his nails. He hadn't done this since the year where Sirius had been away, and Regulus had almost forgotten about the stress-relieving sensation that came with it. He still bit and tore at his nails when he was at Hogwarts, but the skin around them had been left alone.

Until now.

On the morning of Sunday, 7 January, Walburga Black brought Regulus to Kings Cross for the train ride back to Hogwarts.

Walburga kept her hands firmly planted on either one of Regulus's shoulders as she led him through the thick crowd. Regulus saw several of the students who had been present at the meeting with the Dark Lord, but it seemed that every single one of them had come to the silent agreement not to mention it.

Walburga stopped Regulus towards the back of the crowd and turned him around to face her. "I am proud of you, Regulus. Now, go help with the... _plan_. Be as useful as the Dark Lord intends for you to be," she said, looking squarely into his eyes.

"I will, mother. I promise," Regulus responded, and he puffed his chest with the pride of being told that his mother was proud of him _again_.

She nodded her head and released his shoulders, watching as he retreated to the Express.

Halfway to the train, Regulus ran smack into Barty Crouch Jr. "Sorry Barty!" He said, reaching a hand out to help steady the smaller boy.

"It's alright, Reg. C'mon, let's go find a compartment before they're all full," and Regulus led the two of them through the sea of students pouring onto the crimson Hogwarts Express.

Regulus walked through the train, dodging students and looking into compartments to find an empty one. He brought his hand up to his mouth and subconsciously started to bite his nails.

"That's a bad habit," Barty said from behind Regulus, pointing to his nails. "My dad used to get really mad when I did that."

Regulus shrugged and moved to a different finger, "Helps."

Regulus suddenly dropped his hand away from his mouth when he and Barty reached a particular compartment; without any further warning, he reached out, opened the door quite violently, and stepped inside.

"Where the bloody hell have you _been_?!" Regulus stared at his brother reproachfully, who looked quite shocked by Regulus's sudden appearance.

James Potter - who was sitting beside Sirius - stared at Regulus in surprise, Peter Pettigrew - who was sitting nearest Regulus on the left side of the door - was shifting uneasily in his seat, and Remus Lupin - who was sitting directly across from Sirius - was giving Sirius a pointed look that said _I told you so._

Sirius, getting over his initial shock, simply shrugged his shoulders. "James's house."

Regulus stared at him for a few seconds in complete and utter silence. "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE BLOODY DEAD _YOU - ABSOLUTE - PRICK_!" Regulus bellowed, emphasizing the last three words with a punch to Sirius's arm between each one.

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James, and Barty were all staring at Regulus with their jaws dropped; no one knew what to say.

"Told you he'd care, Pete," James said after a few moments of silence as an attempt to break the tension that had settled itself in the compartment; it didn't work.

Regulus was still glaring quite menacingly at Sirius, and Sirius was staring at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Suddenly, however, he composed himself within a matter of seconds and glared right back at Regulus.

"It's none of your _concern_ where I was, Regulus. I don't _have_ to tell _you_ anything," Sirius said.

Regulus narrowed his eyes, and Sirius mirrored the movement. The two brothers stayed like this for a while; just glaring at one another. However, Sirius had always been the more intimidating one.

Regulus sniffed and stood up straight, his eyes darting up and down the form of his brother. His hair was neater, he looked less malnourished than he had the last time Regulus saw him, and it appeared that he had on brand new robes.

"Not like I care anyways," Regulus said in a cold voice, and he turned around and left the compartment without another word.

Barty was looking skeptically at Regulus, and he didn't move as Regulus continued down the train; Regulus noticed this and spun around, staring coldly at Barty.

"Are you coming or not? I'll get a bloody compartment by myself if I have to," normally, Regulus probably would have felt bad about being so rude to Barty, but he was in such a bad mood that it really didn't matter to him.

Barty rushed after him, and the two boys found an empty compartment a few minutes later.

Regulus was completely silent for a half of an hour, and Barty was staring at him warily, as if waiting for him to snap. Finally, after he had calmed down enough and no longer ran the risk of crying the second he opened his mouth, he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with me. I guess it's just stress from the meeting or something," he looked apologetically at Barty.

Barty's facial expression changed to one of confusion. "Meeting?"

Regulus widened his eyes. Of _course_ Barty didn't know about the meeting, he wasn't there! An excitement suddenly filled Regulus, and he spent the next few hours telling Barty all about the meeting - from the conversation that he had overheard between his father and Bellatrix Lestrange, to the meeting itself, to the odd way that his father had been acting afterwards (he did, however, leave out every single part pertaining to Sirius; he thought it best if he kept that part to himself).

When he was finished, Barty was staring at him with a mixture of shock and amazement on his face. "He _really_ said that?"

Regulus nodded vigorously, a smile on his face.

"Reg, that's amazing! Merlin's beard, you're so lucky!" Barty was absolutely beaming at his best mate.

Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr. spent the rest of the train ride speaking in excited whispers about the Dark Lord.

After Regulus Black had left the four Gryffindor boys's compartment, they were all silent.

James and Peter were both shifting nervously, and Remus didn't move his eyes from Sirius. Sirius was sitting with his arms crossed, a scowl still on his face, staring at the compartment door.

"Well, that was... something," James said, and he forced a small chuckle.

No one else did the same.

Sirius could feel Remus's eyes on him, but he didn't want to look over.

Remus, however, cleared his throat and brought the other three occupants's attention onto himself. "I would say I told you so, but..." he raised an eyebrow.

"Told me what, exactly?" Sirius snapped.

"Woah, don't need to bite my head off. I'm just saying that I _told_ you you should've talked to your brother. But _no_ , the great Sirius Black's pride was way too big to ever actually do something as absurd as talking to a _Slytherin_."

Sirius was glaring at Remus, who was staring at him pointedly. Finally, Sirius gave in and heaved a sigh. "I couldn't talk to him," he muttered.

"Why?"

"Because... because..." Sirius stood up and opened the door of the compartment, glancing both ways down the corridor to be sure that no one was within listening distance. Once he was satisfied that there was no one, he shut the door, sat back down, and leaned in. "I think he's working for you-know-who," he said it just above a breath.

Peter widened his eyes and let out a small squeak of fear, though Remus and James were both staring at him skeptically.

"He's eleven years old. I highly doubt that Voldemort would want an eleven year old working for him," James said, and Peter flinched at the name.

Sirius stared at him. "Look, all I know is that I know there was a meeting at Malfoy Manor, and then it just didn't happen. I also know that my parents were _definitely_ going, so why not bring their ickle baby Reggie? I think that they found out I was listening in somehow, moved the meeting, and took Regulus."

"Ok, _first_ of all," began Remus, leaning back in his seat, "if they knew that you had been listening, then why didn't they send someone to come get you from Malfoy Manor? They would have killed you for sure. If they did move it, it was probably for convenience. Second of all, them moving the meeting has _nothing_ to do with Regulus. Again, he is a _child_. I don't know about _you_ , but if I was an evil wizard trying to take over the world, I certainly wouldn't enlist the help of children."

"You don't know my parents."

"You're right, I don't. But I still don't understand why Regulus would be working for you-know-who."

"I don't know, ok? I _don't know_ why Voldemort would want children helping him, but I certainly know why _my parents_ would want Regulus working for him from such a young age."

"Why's that?" James asked, just as skeptical as Remus.

Sirius took a deep breath. "Because of me,"

James and Remus glanced at one another. "There goes those Black family dramatics again," muttered James, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"I'm serious!"

"Yeah, we know you are," Remus replied.

Sirius couldn't help but crack a grin at Remus. "Did you just make a joke about my name?! Bloody hell, Moony, what have we turned you into?"

Remus smirked.

Sirius's expression hardened once again, and he stared around at his three mates. "I am serious, though. I think that they want Regulus to join from such a young age because of me. And besides, we already know that half of those kids are either already Death Eaters, or will be in the future."

"Exactly, _the future_ ," James responded.

"Can you guys just listen to me?! I know it sounds ridiculous, alright? I know that it sounds unbelievable _to you_. But I also know my parents, I know my _family_. I know the kind of pressures and expectations that they're putting on him, because they're the same pressures and expectations that used to be on _me_."

The other three were silent.

Sirius sighed. "When I got sorted Gryffindor and became a 'blood-traitor', it messed up their whole timeline. If I had been sorted Slytherin, if I believed in all of the blood purity bullshit that they believe in, then they would have waited. They probably wouldn't have even _introduced_ us to Voldemort until we were of age. But with me being practically _disowned_ now-"

"They need to push the whole timeline up a few years," muttered Remus - he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.

"Exactly."

James looked between Sirius and Remus. "Wait, wait. So, you think that he's like, _an actual Death Eater_ already?"

"I dunno if I would go _that_ far, but I definitely think that he was at that meeting. I think that he's probably met Voldemort already, and I think that he definitely at least _intends_ on working for him."

"Hang on," Remus shook his head and threw his hands up to pause Sirius, "what makes you think Regulus _wants_ to work for him?"

Sirius raised his eyebrow. "Hello, he's a Black, remember? Of _course_ he wants to work for ol' Voldy."

Remus raised an eyebrow right back. "Hello, you're a Black too, remember? Do _you_ want to work for you-know-who?"

Sirius made a disgusted face. "Merlin, no!"

"Then what makes you think Regulus does?" James cut in, "What if he's only doing it because he's afraid of your parents? I mean, hell, _I_ would be."

"Because, if he _really_ wasn't like my parents, he would've been sorted Gryffindor. The little tosser got Slytherin, right? Of _course_ he's going to willingly work for Voldemort. And besides, my parents would _never_ hurt their precious little Reggie-kins, not now. He's the only Black heir they have," but even as he said it, Sirius began to doubt the statement.

The others obviously doubted it too, for they were all looking uncertainly at one another.

"What do you think, Pete? Willing participant, or afraid that his parents will kill him if he goes against them?" James asked, and the other three all turned their full attention to Peter.

"Well - uh..." Peter glanced at his three friends, unsure which one of the three to side with. "What if it's - what if it's both?"

Remus cocked his head, Sirius furrowed his brow, and James asked, "Huh?"

"Well, I just mean that, like, what if Regulus thinks that he's doing it voluntarily, but in reality, he's scared of his parents? I mean, from what you've told us about your parents, Sirius, they sound right crazy. So, what if they manipulated your brother into thinking that he's doing it willingly? Like... like conditioned him to think he wanted to work for you-know-who?"

The other three stayed in utter silence.

"I mean, I could - I could be wrong, but-"

"No, no I think Peter's right," Remus said, and James nodded his head.

"Yeah, I think he is. I mean, it wouldn't be that hard to do. Sirius, they basically tried to do the same to you when you were a kid, yeah? It obviously didn't work, but what if it did on Regulus?" James added.

"No, no, they wouldn't have been able to. I _always_ protected Regulus from that kind of stuff. I would always take the lectures and the punishments for him, so there's no way that they could have done that successfully to him without doing it successfully to me, too." Sirius said.

"Well... you _did_ spend a year away from him last year, remember? And you _did_ say he was really different when you got back..." James said.

"No, ok? No. No, Regulus is doing it willingly. There's no bloody conditioning or manipulation or whatever the hell else you lot want to come up with. He's doing it willingly, and that's just how it is."

The rest of the train ride was spent in awkward silence and small talk, for none of the marauders could seem to get the topic of Regulus Black's willingness to become a Death Eater out of their minds.


	13. The Mind of Regulus Black

Deacon Ackland was waiting on the entrance hall stairs when the carriages arrived.

He watched eagerly as students flooded the large entrance hall before him; he watched as some of them entered the Great Hall straight away for dinner, and some of them chose to go to their common rooms first.

Deacon stood up on the stairs and extended to his full height, trying to catch sight of his two best mates.

He watched as the four Gryffindor second year boys stumbled into the Great Hall, laughing about something that anyone else probably wouldn't have even found that funny. He recognized the three Gryffindor second year girls - Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary MacDonald - and waved at them as they walked by.

Deacon was the only one out of the three Gryffindor first year boys that had stayed at the school; not only did he just not necessarily want to go back to his house, but he wasn't entirely sure that he would be welcomed back.

The nasty letters from his family had stopped three weeks into the term, and he hadn't received a single piece of mail from anyone since. He didn't know if his family had decided to cut off contact because he was disowned, or if it was purely because they had run out of insults; but nevertheless, the letters had stopped - and he was quite glad they had.

However, this did mean spending the holiday almost entirely alone.

The only other first year who had stayed was a Ravenclaw boy named Emerson Reid, and he turned out to be quite nice.

Deacon and Emerson spent a lot of their days playing games like Gobstones or Wizards Chess, but one could only play those games so much. When they were bored of playing games, they would wander the castle together, or else just sit somewhere and talk.

It turned out that Emerson was a half-blooded wizard who was raised by his muggle father - his mother left them both when Emerson was just a baby. When Emerson was seven, his father met a woman, who he married when Emerson was ten.

Emerson confided that he didn't really like the woman that much, and so he decided to spend that Christmas at Hogwarts.

Despite Emerson's willingness to tell Deacon practically his entire life's story, Deacon didn't do the same. He told Emerson that he had stayed at Hogwarts that year because he 'wanted to make the holiday easier on his parents'; he didn't necessarily _lie_ , he just didn't tell the _whole_ truth.

So, his holiday hadn't been _completely_ lonely.

He still missed his friends, though.

So, he had been sitting on the entrance hall stairs for over an hour before the students started showing up; and here he was.

He was craning his neck, trying to see over the heads of the students who were pouring up the stairs, when he heard his name.

"DEACON!" Deacon watched as a boy with light-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes pushed through the crowd of students coming into the entrance hall; Benjamin Stone.

Deacon grinned from ear to ear and ran down the stairs to meet the boy. "BENJI!" He shouted.

The two boys met in the middle of the entrance hall, and Benjamin wrapped the smaller boy into a hug. "I MISSED YOU!" he shouted, and Deacon laughed.

"I missed you, too!" he stepped out of the other boy's tight embrace, flushed with the happiness of getting to see his friends again.

He glanced around the now-emptying entrance hall, but he couldn't seem to find the third member of their small friend group. "Do you know where Fran is?"

Benji shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. I tried to find him on the train, but I couldn't. Ended up riding back with a group of Hufflepuffs."

"Huh, weird."

So, the two boys sat back down on the entrance hall stairs, and they waited. It took a couple of minutes, and several curious stares from passing students, but finally, they heard it.

Francesco's voice carried in from the grounds, and Deacon's heart swelled.

However, this feeling of euphoria quickly dissipated as Francesco actually came into view; he was hand in hand with Clementine Bates, who was giggling at something he had just said.

Benjamin stared at the couple with wide eyes before turning to Deacon. "Well, _that's_ a development."

Regulus Black and Barty Crouch Jr. entered the entrance hall a few feet behind Francesco Anderson and Clementine Bates. The four first years had all been forced to get a carriage together, as they were all quite late getting off the express.

The carriage ride itself went much better than Regulus would have suspected; Francesco was so busy with his new girlfriend that he didn't even seem to _notice_ that Regulus and Barty were there at all.

Regulus entered the hall, and his eyes immediately landed on Deacon Ackland. He was standing on the stairs, and he was staring at Clementine and Francesco's hands with a look of... was that... _longing_?

He furrowed his brow and slowed down a bit - his eyes darting between the four first years; why was Deacon looking at them like that? As far as Regulus knew, Francesco and Deacon weren't even that close anymore, not after... well, after what he called Deacon.

_He probably just wants to be close with Francesco again_ , Regulus thought to himself, and he turned away.

He and Barty reached their dorm room a few minutes later, and Regulus immediately fell face down onto the bed; he had barely slept a wink ever since Christmas Eve.

"Do you wanna go down to dinner?" Barty asked; he placed his book bag down on his desk and sat on the edge of his bed so he was facing Regulus.

"No," Regulus grunted, and he rolled over so that he was face-up, "I'm bloody tired."

"Ok," Barty stood up and let out a yawn, "I'll - I'll bring you down some food, if you want?"

"No, I'm ok. Thank you though," Regulus gave the other boy a small smile before rolling onto his side and shutting his eyes tight.

_Regulus was sitting in the parlor of Lestrange Manor; the chilly air that wafted in through the windows sent shivers through Regulus's spine. Regulus crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his arms quite vigorously, glancing around the seemingly-empty room._

_"Ah, hello, Regulus," a familiar raspy-yet-deep voice drawled, and Regulus whipped his head around; he was face to face with the Dark Lord._

_"My - my lord," Regulus's teeth chattered, as it seemed to be getting colder by the second._

_The Dark Lord tilted his head, and a twisted smile came upon his face. "Cold, isn't it?"_

_Regulus nodded his head, then - thinking better of it - said, "Yes, my lord, quite c-cold."_

_"Yes, well, this is the state it appears your mind is in, now, isn't it?" The Dark Lord circled Regulus, seeming to glide rather than walk._

_"What do you mean?" Regulus asked, turned around in a tight circle so that his eyes followed the Dark Lord._

_The Dark Lord stopped in his circling, and he stared squarely into Regulus's eyes. "We're in your mind, Regulus Black."_

_Regulus felt a chill run down his spine that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold. "What? How?"_

_The Dark Lord tilted his head, and a grotesque smile climbed onto his pale face. "You, of all people, should know, Regulus Black."_

_He thought for a moment, and the Dark Lord's smile deepened. Finally, the answer came to him, and he widened his eyes. "Legilimency," he breathed._

_"Ah, proving to be just as smart as I had hoped," there was silence. The Dark Lord looked 'round the room and took a deep breath. "Let's see what you have in here, shall we?"_

_The scene around the two of them seemed to melt away, and was replaced by the dark library of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The Dark Lord paced the room, and then looked at Regulus with a raised eyebrow. "You're trying to hide this place from me, Regulus. Why?"_

_It was true; Regulus was trying to keep any thought or image of his brother out of his mind. "Whatever do you mean, my lord?"_

_The Dark Lord ran his long, stark-white fingers along the spines of the books that filled the wall-height bookcases. "Quite a lovely little library you have here," he drew a book from the shelf, and smirked at the cover. "_ Secrets of the Darkest Art _. A personal favorite of mine," he looked up, and his deep black eyes met Regulus's. "Have you read it?"_

_"No, my lord, I have not," Regulus wasn't technically_ lying _, he hadn't ever finished the book._

_The Dark Lord nodded, and he placed the book back in its place on the shelf. "Well, unfortunately, your little library here is not why I chose to visit the mind of Regulus Black."_

_The scene melted away yet again, and Regulus was surprised to find them in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom at Hogwarts. What was even more shocking;_ he could see himself.

_There he was, sitting next to Deacon Ackland in the front-right desk. The Dark Lord walked 'round the perimeter of the room, looking pointedly at Professor Bell, who was teaching about how to treat werewolf bites._

_Regulus widened his eyes, and that's when he noticed that he and Deacon Ackland were talking; well, Deacon Ackland was talking to Regulus, more like._

_"How do you know?!" Memory Regulus snapped, and current Regulus watched as several heads turned to look at the two boys._

_The Dark Lord looked away from Professor Bell in amusement, and he stood before the small two-person desk._

_"I don't care what you think about me you - you stupid little mudblood!" Regulus remembered the feelings that had been going through him when those words left his mouth, and he closed his eyes._

_The Dark Lord let out a low chuckle, and he looked up at Regulus. "Well done, Regulus Black. I would expect nothing else from a member of the Black family-"_

_"MR. ANDERSON!" Professor Bell shouted cutting the Dark Lord off. "Put your wand away_. _Mr. Black. There will be absolutely no language like that used in this classroom. Fifteen points from Slytherin, detention, and I will be having a talk with your head of house."_

_The Dark Lord shot a glare at Professor Bell, his eyes narrowed._

_"He's a bloody Black, what did you expect," muttered Benjamin Stone, and the Dark Lord transferred his attention yet again; an amused smile was playing on his pale lips, and he pointed at Benjamin._

_"That's what I'm saying," Regulus thought that he may have never been more red in his entire life. The Dark Lord focused his attention back onto Professor Bell yet again; it appeared to Regulus that this may have been the whole reason they had come here._

_But_ why _?_

_Suddenly, Regulus remembered the conversation that would take place between Regulus Black and Professor Bell after class, and he prayed that the Dark Lord would get what he needed before that. After what felt like an absolute eternity of Regulus looking around the oh-so-familiar scene, and the Dark Lord staring at Milo Bell intently, the scene melted away yet again._

_The Dark Lord and Regulus Black stood back in the parlor of Lestrange Manor, and the Dark Lord took his seat before the fireplace. "This is a very interesting mind that you have here, Regulus Black," he commented, "very cold; just what I would have expected."_

_Regulus wanted to ask what he meant, but he didn't want to accidentally give away just how little he knew about Legilimency and Occlumency; yes, of course he knew the_ definitions _, but that was about as far as his knowledge of the two subjects stretched._

_The Dark Lord took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "We will do this again, Regulus Black," he chuckled to himself and shook his head slowly. "Eleven years old, and you're already proving to be one of my most useful Death Eaters. You have a bright future ahead of you, Regulus Black, I can feel it."_

_"Thank you, my lord," Regulus responded, swelling with pride at the prospect of being complimented by the Dark Lord himself._

_"Oh, and Regulus? Don't mention this to anyone, or I'm afraid I would have to..." he trailed off and opened his eyes, glancing back at Regulus, "you don't want to tell anyone."_

_"I won't, my lord, I promise."_

_"Most excellent," the last thing that Regulus Black saw before waking up in his dormitory bed, was the twisted and grotesque smile of the Dark Lord._

"Reg? REG!" Barty shouted, and Regulus bolted upright in his bed. "Are you alright? You kept talking in your sleep."

Regulus glanced frantically around the room, as if he were expecting to see the Dark Lord himself standing at the foot of his bed; the confirmation that the Dark Lord was, in fact, no where near his bed did give him a slight bit of comfort.

"Awww, did the ickle little baby have another nightmare?" cooed Evan Rosier from his bed.

Regulus shot him a glare, "Shut the bloody hell up, Rosier,"

"Or what?" Rosier asked, a smirk playing on his thin lips.

Regulus narrowed his eyes and grappled for his wand, which was sitting on his nightstand; he pointed it levelly at Rosier. "Do you want to find out?" he snarled.

Evan Rosier's eyes darted from Regulus's to the tip of the wand pointing at him, and he rolled his eyes. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Black," and he rolled onto his side to go back to sleep.

Regulus lowered his wand and returned it back to its place. "Are you alright?" Barty asked again, though his voice was much quieter this time.

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok. Just the normal, ya know, inferi and deep water," he shrugged, trying to play off his 'nightmare' as best as he could.

Barty looked at him for a few seconds in silence. "I have nightmares about my dad," he said, just above a breath; Regulus's heart broke for the smaller boy.

"Barty... that's awful." He gave the other boy a sympathetic look, and Barty shrugged his shoulders.

"It's normal, now. Not my mum, though, never my mum. Anyways, if you're alright, I'm going to head back to sleep. But, if you aren't, I can stay up with you?"

Regulus gave his best mate a weak smile. "Thank you, Barty. I'm ok; really."

Barty returned the smile. "Ok. Goodnight, Reg."

"Goodnight, Barty."

Potions the next day was the most tense and awkward that it had been all year; Francesco, on one hand, was absolutely _beaming_ ; so much so, in fact, that he nearly forgot that he hated Regulus Black. Deacon seemed bored with every single thing that was said; as if his life had simply become dull and void of anything fun overnight. Regulus was unfocused, thinking of everything that had happened inside of his mind the night before. Barty was the only one who was acting as he normally did, but there was a certain tension that had settled itself between he and Regulus ever since Barty's confession the night before.

All in all, almost every single other student in the classroom could feel the tension radiating from their little four-person table.

Monday came and went without any other complications; though it did appear to Regulus that Sirius and the other Gryffindor boys were actively avoiding him more than normal. Usually, the groups would cross at least twice on Monday's, but today, he didn't see any of them at all; not even once.

That night, the Dark Lord entered Regulus's mind again; this time, they travelled to the memory of both Regulus's sorting (specifically, the part where Dumbledore introduced Milo Bell to the students), and Regulus's first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Why they didn't start with these two memories, Regulus wasn't sure.

He woke up Tuesday morning even more exhausted than he had been when he had gone to sleep; it seemed that traveling through his own mind took just as much energy as would be exerted if he were reliving the memories awake.

He barely ate anything at breakfast and lunch, and he even took a short nap in History of Magic - of course, Professor Binns didn't notice.

When they reached their last class of the day, DADA, Regulus was just ready to get class over with and be able to take a (hopefully) uninterrupted nap. He plopped down into his normal seat beside Deacon, who still looked just as put-out as he had the day before; visually, the two boys made quite an interesting pair on this specific day.

"Hi," Deacon muttered after a few moments of silence, and he looked at Regulus with a weak smile on his pale lips. "How was your holiday?"

Regulus was about to answer the question when he remembered just which class they were in; the Dark Lord would be _sure_ to look at this memory at some point, and he couldn't risk being seen speaking to a mudblood. So, he stayed silent.

"Regulus?" Deacon asked.

Nothing.

Deacon sighed and turned forward, burying his face into the crook of his elbow.

Regulus paid extra attention to Professor Bell that day in class; _what_ was so special about this man? Yes, he was young, and yes, he was quite good at teaching, but what interest was this to the Dark Lord? It just didn't make any _sense_.

He had been thinking about the meeting, too, ever since the first night that the Dark Lord had entered his mind; thought about the tone of his voice when he had said _Milo Bell_ , the look on his face, the way his posture changed, how quickly he ended the meeting.

_What was so special about this man_?

By Friday night, he still had no answers.

Regulus was absolutely exhausted; he didn't think that he had ever gotten this little rest in his entire life. The Dark Lord was entering his mind every single night for _hours_ at a time - which, really, didn't make a lick of sense, as it usually felt like mere minutes to Regulus. Regardless, he at least wanted to know _why_ he was this tired.

_"My lord?" Regulus asked; they were in the memory that Regulus had obtained in Defense class that very day. Regulus was leaned against the wall in the back of the classroom, and the Dark Lord was watching Professor Bell sitting at his desk intently - that day, they had just been writing essays in class._

_"Regulus Black?" The Dark Lord drawled, and he stood up straight in one, fluent motion._

_"Why are we doing this? I mean, forgive me for asking, my lord, but what's so important about Professor Bell?"_

_The Dark Lord considered this question for a moment, and then the scene melted and morphed back to the parlor of Lestrange Manor; the place where they would always start and end._

_"Well, Regulus Black, Milo Bell is quite..._ dangerous _, to me," the Dark Lord sat down in his chair and stared Regulus square in the eye. "He knows things, that I simply can not have him knowing."_

_The Dark Lord paused, and Regulus shivered in the cold air that was surrounding the two of them. Regulus stood in silence - the only sounds coming from him were his unsteady breaths and the chattering of his teeth - waiting for him to continue; he never did._

_"I will see you again tomorrow night, Regulus Black," the Dark Lord said, and before Regulus could ask him to skip the night - to explain to him just how exhausted it was making him - he woke up._

Regulus's eyes shot open, and he stared at the pitch-black air above him; he was relieved to feel the warmth of the covers around him, and he curled himself in a small ball to better contain his body heat.

His breathing was still unsteady, and he was wide awake - despite how much he longed to fall back asleep. He calmed his breathing, and then he realized how much he needed to use the bathroom.

Much to his resentment, he threw the thick covers off of himself and stepped onto the cold floor beneath him. The trip to the bathroom was quite short; out the dormitory door, down the stone spiral staircase to the flight below, and into the boys's bathroom.

The bathrooms of the Slytherin common room were laid out quite strangely, and he wondered if the other house's were the same; when stepping in, the wall directly across from the door was covered in sinks and mirrors. To the left, their was a long line of toilet-stalls, and to the right, a long row of small rooms that each contained a shower, clothing bin, and containers of soap, shampoo, and conditioner that seemed to refill themselves.

Regulus used the bathroom and padded across the cold tile floor towards the line of sinks; the water was freezing cold, and it sent a shock through his body. Regulus heaved a sigh and rinsed the soap from his hands, hating every single moment that the freezing-cold water cascaded over his pale hands.

He turned off the water and gripped the sides of the white-ceramic sink basin, glancing at himself in the mirror; his black curly hair was sticking up every-which-way, his face was even more sallow and pale than usual, and he had the darkest bags underneath his eyes than he thought was humanly possible.

He looked horrible.

Regulus closed his eyes and let his head fall forward, tightening his grip on the sides of the sink basin; if only there was _some way_ that he could stop the Dark Lord from infiltrating his mind...

His head shot upright, causing a nerve to pinch in the crook above his left shoulder. _That's it!_

Regulus Black needed to learn Occlumency; and he needed to learn it _fast_.


	14. The Art of Occlumency

Regulus Black sat in the library early Saturday morning; it was so early, in fact, that the only other occupant besides himself was Madam Pince. She seemed quite surprised when she opened the library that morning and found Regulus sitting in the corridor outside, slumped over and half asleep.

He immediately rushed into the healing section and set off for any books pertaining to Legilimency and Occlumency; he figured that they would probably be in the healing section, as the subjects themselves pertained to ones mind.

After a few minutes of searching, the only book that he could find was titled _The Art of Understanding the Mind_ ; he took the book and sat himself down into a quiet corner and opened to the front page.

Regulus stayed in the library all day, reading and rereading the book cover-to-cover. Several other groups of students had wandered in and out, mostly groups of friends trying to find quiet places to hang out, or else fifth and seventh years studying vigorously for their O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s.

Regulus looked up from the book on his lap and let out a deep yawn after his third time of rereading it; he wasn't exactly sure _why_ he kept rereading it, it wasn't as though new information would just magically appear somewhere where it hadn't been previously.

With a sigh, Regulus shut the book and uncurled his body - he had been sitting in a tight ball in the chair. His legs felt stiff, and he winced with every step that he took back towards the healing shelves.

He rounded the corner to return the book, but stopped dead in his tracks; Sirius Black and James Potter were searching the shelves.

"Mate, the books for it obviously won't be _here_ ," James was saying, but he kept searching nonetheless.

"Ok, well where else would they be? It's changing the _body_ , correct? _Healing_ has something to do with the body!" Sirius responded; he was practically laying down on the floor checking the bottom shelves.

James shook his head and stood straight up, and his eyes landed on Regulus. "Oh - er - hi," he flushed and kicked Sirius in the side.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ fo- oh," Sirius stood up quickly, dusting off his clothes and glaring at Regulus. "What do _you_ want?"

Regulus glared right back and pointedly held up the book in his hands, "I'm returning a book you dolt," and he walked towards where he had found the book; it just so happened to be right where Sirius and James were standing.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and snatched the book from Regulus's hands before he could put it back on the shelf. "Hey!" he protested, but he wasn't fast enough to grab the book back from Sirius.

Sirius read the title of the book, and then he looked up at Regulus with a sneer. "Why are _you_ reading about _minds_? That's weird."

Regulus flushed and ripped the book out of Sirius's hands. "And why are _you_ in the healing section?"

Sirius scoffed, "For your _information_ , we're researching how to-"

"EXTRA CREDIT FOR TRANSFIGURATION!" James said - a little bit too loud - and he clapped a hand over Sirius's mouth. James gave Regulus an awkward smile, and Regulus looked between the two boys skeptically.

"Check the Transfiguration section then, idiots," he rolled his eyes and pushed the book back onto the shelf where it belonged.

Sirius wrenched James's hand off of his mouth, and he narrowed his eyes. "We already tried that, stupid, we aren't _that_ dumb,"

Regulus shrugged, "Dunno about that,"

"You little-" James kicked Sirius in the shin before he could continue, and he gestured behind himself with his head; Madam Pince was organizing books at the end of the shelf, and she was watching the three boys cautiously.

Regulus backed away from his brother and James Potter, eyeing them both suspiciously until he had rounded the corner and could no longer see them. Once out of view of the other two, Regulus let his guard drop, and he heaved a sigh; he had spent all day in the library, and the most helpful thing he had found were the definitions of Legilimency and Occlumency, which he _already knew._

_If only I could go home and get the book..._

It hit him.

Regulus darted out of the library excitedly, taking the moving staircases two steps at a time until he reached the common room. Corban Yaxley and Gillian Fairman were sitting on the couch before the fire place, and Walden Macnair was sitting in one of the chairs; Yaxley and Macnair were both leaning in and whispering conspicuously to one another.

Regulus darted past them and up the stone spiral staircase, passing several boys who glared suspiciously at Regulus's passing form. When he reached his dorm room and pushed open the door, he was relieved to find it empty.

"Kreacher!" Regulus shouted the second the door had shut behind him.

The old elf appeared with a CRACK! on the foot of Regulus's bed; he was flapping his big ears happily and wringing his hands. "Master Regulus has called for Kreacher?"

Regulus smiled at the elf and plopped onto the edge of his bed, facing Kreacher. "Hello, Kreacher. How are you?"

The elf gave Regulus a smile - which, Regulus had to admit, looked quite scary on his face, yet it still comforted him. "Kreacher is be doing good! How is Master Regulus?"

"I'm good, Kreacher," the elf hopped happily from foot to foot, "Kreacher, I actually need you to do something for me. If you're not too busy, of course,"

"Kreacher is never too busy to help Master Regulus! What is it that Master Regulus is be needing?"

Regulus looked nervously around the room, double checking that no one was around; once he was satisfied that the room was completely and utterly empty, he turned back to Kreacher - though he was talking much quieter than before. "Kreacher, I need you to bring me a book from mother's library. The title is _The Art of Occlumency_ , and I need it as soon as possible."

Kreacher cocked his bit head, and one of his ears fell almost parallel to the wall, "Why is Master Regulus be needing a book from Mistress's library when Hogwarts is having a library of its own?"

"They don't have the book that I need here," he sent yet another glance 'round the room, and leaned closer to Kreacher. "Kreacher, I command you not to tell anyone about this. Not mother, not father, _no one_. If they command you to tell them, I still command you not to say anything. Ok?"

Kreacher nodded his head. "Kreacher will not tell anyone, Master Regulus."

Regulus gave the elf a smile yet again, "Thank you, Kreacher. Now, I command you to go get the book for me. _But_ ," he stopped the elf before he could disapparate, "if anyone is in the library, do not get the book. _Do not get the book and bring it to me unless the library is completely and totally empty_. Understood?"

"Yes, Master Regulus, Kreacher will not get the book that Master Regulus is be needing unless the library is be being empty."

"And the name of the book that I asked you to get?"

" _The Art of Occlumency_ ,"

"Very good. Thank you, Kreacher."

"Kreacher is just being happy that he is helping his Master Regulus," and with a snap, the elf was gone.

Regulus sat on the bed for a few seconds, taking in the silence of the room around him. After a minute, he stood up and began pacing the room nervously; there was really no telling when Regulus would get the book, especially since he knew that Orion Black had been spending an unprecedented amount of time in the library as of recently.

After ten minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Kreacher, Regulus sat heavily onto his bed with a sigh. He glanced at the door, which was still closed, and pointed his wand at the lock.

" _Colloportus_ ," he heard the locks click, and he dropped his wand onto the nightstand; he really didn't need Evan Rosier or Theodore Travers - or even Barty, for that matter - walking into the room at the same moment that Kreacher showed up with a book about Occlumency.

And so, when Kreacher finally did appear almost thirty minutes later, Regulus was jolted awake in shock - he was mere seconds away from falling asleep.

"Kreacher has brought back the book for Master Regulus! Kreacher is sorry it took so long, Master Orion was being in the library when Kreacher got back!" Kreacher dropped the book onto the bed and hopped from foot to foot nervously.

"It's ok, Kreacher," Regulus croaked; his voice was quite hoarse from tiredness and disuse. He picked the book up and ran his hand over the cover, his fingers sinking into the small divots created by the title. Regulus looked up and gave Kreacher a smile. "Thank you, Kreacher."

"Kreacher is most welcome! Is there anything else that Master Regulus is be needing?"

"No, this is all Kreacher. Thank you, again. You may go,"

Kreacher disappeared, leaving Regulus alone in the dark room once again. He took a deep breath and cracked open the front cover of the book, reading the table of contents; he was looking for a chapter on how one can learn Occlumency, but he got quite distracted by one of the first chapters which was titled ' _the state of ones mind and what it can mean'_.

With a furrowed brow, he opened to page 145 and began reading:

_As mentioned in Chapter 5 (_ the infiltration of a weak mind _, page 72), a particularly skilled Legilimens can sometimes relive the memories of a weak mind. What this means for the weak-minded, is that they will have to relive these particular memories with the Legilimens in questions (this technique is sometimes used as a therapeutic method for some a witches or wizards who may have experienced a traumatic experience in the past; one which the victim in question may have suppressed or else chosen to ignore for so long that it became blurred). This form of Legilimency does not only pertain to the weak-minded, however; if the Legilimens is extraordinary at their skill, they can infiltrate the moderately-strong minds (the only way to stop this infiltration is through the art of Occlumency; the skill of the Occlumens can vary based on the skills of the Legilimens performing the infiltration)._  
 _When reliving memories with a skilled Legilimens, the victim may feel like they're in a dream-like state; if the Legilimens shows exceptional skill, it may feel like the memories being explored are bleeding, melting, or morphing together (this type of skill is typically the hardest to deter from, and requires remarkable skill in the field of Occlumency). When prodding inside of ones mind, there can be several indicators of the sort of mental state that that person may be in. Listed below are some of the more common mental indicators:_

Warm Atmosphere _: a warm atmosphere in the mind can indicate a person who is happy or content with their life; this person is truly in their delightful mind set. A warm atmosphere may present itself in the form of warm air or particularly vibrant and warm-toned colors; the warmer the air or brighter the colors, the happier their mindset is. People with warm minds are commonly harder to infiltrate, and have an easier time learning and performing Occlumency._

Neutral Atmosphere _: a neutral atmosphere typically indicates someone who is in an impartial state of mind; they have no particular feelings of either contentment or displeasure. A neutral atmosphere may be presented by a lack of either warm or cold, and colors will generally appear as they do normally._

Cold Atmosphere _: a cold atmosphere indicates the worst type of mental state. This state often means that one is particularly sad, or else they are going through an especially hard time; they may be dealing with something traumatic that has happened to them recently, or contrarily, experiencing a loss of some sort (these minds are usually the weakest, and therefore, are the easiest to infiltrate - especially from long distances). Opposite to the warm atmosphere, a cold atmosphere regularly means cold air, and dull colors; the colder the air or duller the colors, the worse the state of mind, and the easier to infiltrate. People who have cold atmospheric minds habitually have the hardest time learning Occlumency._

Regulus stopped reading and lowered the book onto the bed before him. He had a cold mind.

He didn't _feel_ sad, and he hadn't experienced trauma or loss or anything like that. So _why_ was his mind _so bloody cold_? Even the Dark Lord had noticed how cold his mind seemed to be. _Why_?

What was even worse; it said _specifically_ that people with cold minds had a harder time learning Occlumency. Did that mean that he couldn't learn it _at all_ , or just that it would be more difficult for him?

Dread ran through Regulus's veins. What if he _never_ learned Occlumency? What if the Dark Lord just kept prying into Regulus's mind until he died of exhaustion? _Could_ he die of exhaustion? How _long_ would it take? He couldn't remember the last time that he had had more than thirty minutes of uninterrupted sleep.

_No_ , Regulus thought to himself, _no, I'll learn Occlumency. I can do it. I know I can do it. Even if I can't, if I just tell the Dark Lord about how exhausted it makes me, he'll stop for a few days so I can catch up on rest. Surely._

_Will he?_

_Yes! He wouldn't just let me_ die _!_

_He might._

_He wouldn't!_

_He could._

_He needs me, he needs my mind. And besides, surely he would understand if I just_ talked _to him!_

_He could use someone else's mind, I'm not special to him. Yes, he thinks I'm smart and that I'll one day be useful to him, but right now I'm just an eleven year old kid who reads and has a weak mind. I'm expendable to him._

_No! Mother and father are some of his most loyal supporters, and he knows that one day, I'll be just like them! I'll be the most loyal Death Eater there ever was!_

Regulus closed the book and stood up; he had to find a place to hide the bloody thing! Even if he didn't learn Occlumency, he still couldn't have people knowing that he _wanted_ to learn it. So, he spent the next few minutes searching for the best hiding place; eventually, he decided upon stowing it beneath his mattress.

Just in time, too, for the second that he had dropped his mattress back over the book, he heard a whispered " _Alohamora_ ," and the locks clicked. He spun around to find Evan Rosier entering, a sneer on his face; Barty followed close behind him, and he smiled at Regulus.

"Hey, Reg. Find what you were looking for?" Barty walked over to his own bed and collapsed onto the dark-green duvet, heaving a sigh.

"Huh?" Regulus asked, reorienting himself to the surroundings, and the new addition of people.

Barty put his hands behind his head and glanced at Regulus. "You were in the library like all day. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"What _were_ you looking for?" Evan Rosier asked, and Regulus swore that he could see a smirk on the boy's face through the darkness.

"Something for History of Magic," he replied coldly, and he turned back to Barty, "yeah, I did. Took a while though, obviously." He spoke to Barty with a much warmer tone, and he sat on his bed.

"Well, it's good that you found it," Barty yawned, and then stood up to change into his pyjamas.

Regulus followed suit, and soon enough, all four boys were tucked comfortably into their beds (Theodore Travers had stumbled into the room a few minutes before with a dopey smile on his face; Regulus suspected that he had been with Phoebe Scott).

Regulus wasn't exactly the most _elated_ to be going to sleep, for he knew that he likely wouldn't be getting any actual rest at all. He spent the very few minutes that he spent still conscious going over everything that he had read about in his head; he needed to learn Occlumency, no matter how much effort it took.

He was, however, quite worried about what the Dark Lord would think; would he think that Regulus was trying to hide something from him? Would he... would he _kill_ Regulus if he felt strongly enough? Surely not, he wasn't _evil_... at least, not towards pure-bloods...

Fear cascaded through Regulus's body, and he fell asleep that night thinking of all the possibilities of what would occur when the Dark Lord could no longer read the mind of Regulus Black.

That night, Regulus had the best sleep that he had ever had in his life; it was the first time in six consecutive days that the Dark Lord didn't enter his mind.

Evan Rosier was wide awake.

He lay still in his bed, listening intently to the other boys's breathing; once the last of their breathing had deepened and leveled out, he knew that all of them were fast asleep. Rosier threw his blanket off of himself and stepped gingerly onto the hardwood floor beneath him.

With a twisted smile on his face, he reached beneath his mattress and pulled out a stack of papers.

He took his wand off his bedside table and held it in his teeth while he climbed back under the blanket, sitting up and causing a tent-like effect. He took his wand out of his mouth and whispered, " _Lumos._ " The tip of his wand lit up and illuminated the area 'round him.

Rosier held his wand between his teeth again and began flipping through the pages; pages that were absolutely full of information. He had transcripts of conversations (well, as close to a transcript as he could get, seeing as how he had to write it all from memory), notes of odd things that he had noticed, and he had just started working on a rough timeline of events to piece them all together.

Evan Rosier smirked to himself and reached out from beneath his covers to his bedside table. He opened the top drawer and withdrew a piece of thick paper, a quill, and a small pot of ink. Hastily, he opened the ink and began scribbling down every suspicious thing that he had heard and seen that day - both in the library and on the stairs up to the boys's dormitory, where he had been sitting for nearly an hour, listening.

He scribbled down everything that he remembered, added a line and a few quick notes to the timeline, and stacked everything back up. " _Nox_ ," he muttered, taking his wand out of his mouth.

He was plunged into darkness, and he pulled the blanket from over his head. He put everything back as quietly as he could, taking extra care with the stack of papers to be sure nothing got smudged or ruined.

He climbed back into his bed and pulled the duvet up to his chin, and he thought about the things that that small stack of papers contained; all starting with the conversation that he had overheard on the second Tuesday of term from outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Evan Rosier fell asleep that night staring at the curtains that surrounded the bed of Regulus Black with a menacing smile upon his face.


	15. Valentine's Day

Orion Black sat in the library of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. It was Tuesday, 13 February, and he had a plan.

The following day would be Valentine's Day, and Orion Black knew that Milo Bell absolutely _could not_ resist chocolate. He had a small box of chocolate before him - which he had laced with very minuscule amounts of baneberry juice, which, even in small doses such as the ones contained in the chocolate, could kill within seconds - and a smirk was playing on his lips.

He just needed to pretend to be the _right person_... it hit him. Orion grabbed a small square of parchment from beside himself and began to scribble a carefully crafted note; he was careful to keep his handwriting as loopy and 'girl-like' as he could. When he was done, he blew on the parchment lightly to dry the ink and smiled to himself, reading over the note:

_Dearest Milo,_   
_I hope you enjoy the chocolate that I have sent you, I know how much you love it. I miss you. We should see each other when you come back from Hogwarts._

_Love, Penelope Burke_

He tied the note to the top of the box and carried it to the window, tying it to the leg of an owl that he had borrowed for the occasion. Orion watched the owl disappear out the window and into the sky, congratulating himself for his brilliant plan.

Milo Bell received the owl the following morning.

He was sitting in his classroom, waiting for the last of his second year Gryffindors and Slytherins to arrive, when he heard the tapping. He glanced over and cocked his head; swiftly, he walked over to the window and slid it open, allowing the strange owl access into the classroom. He untied the odd parcel from the owl's leg and dropped a knut into it's pouch, which it hooted gratefully for before sweeping from the room.

He furrowed his brow at the box and opened the lid, revealing an assortment of chocolates. Bell was about to read the note with which the box had been sent when the four Gryffindor boys entered the room, all shouting at one another and laughing uproariously.

Milo Bell smiled and shook his head; the note on the box of chocolates was forgotten.

"Alright, class, today we will be learning - yes, Mr. Black?" Milo Bell began speaking, but Sirius Black's hand had shot up into the air within seconds.

"Professor, can I switch seats today? Sniv - er - _Severus_ , here, keeps distracting me with his... _smell_." Sirius pointed to the boy sitting next to himself, and Severus Snape's face lost all of its color.

"Stop being a bully, Black!" Lily snarled from behind him, standing up in her seat to defend her best mate.

Sirius turned 'round to face Lily and feigned innocence. "Oh, come on, Evans, I wasn't being mean! You can't tell me that you can't smell him from where you're sitting!"

"Mr. Black, Miss Evans is right, stop being rude to Mr. Snape here," he paused and his eyes darted towards Remus Lupin, who was shaking his head and staring at Sirius. "You may move to sit next to Mr. Lupin if Mr. Rookwood doesn't mind sitting beside Mr. Snape today," and he turned to face the board with a smile on his face.

He heard shuffling behind him, and when he turned 'round, Augustus Rookwood was sneering down at the desk from beside Severus Snape, and Sirius Black was beaming at Remus Lupin.

"Alright, as I was _saying_ ," he shot Sirius Black a pointed look, but he couldn't seem to keep the small smirk from his face, "today, we'll be learning absolutely nothing," and he turned around, walked 'round his desk, and plopped down in his seat with a sigh.

The class was silent - everyone was glancing around at each other. "Yes, Miss Evans?" Milo Bell asked, noticing the red-headed girls hand - which had shot up into the air.

"What do you mean we're learning _nothing_?" She asked, and Marlene McKinnon - who was sitting across the isle - nodded in agreement at the question.

"Well, it's a holiday, isn't it? I know that when I was in school, I _hated_ that we had classes on holidays. So, I decided to make it easier on the lot of you," he gave them all a warm smile and then reached for the box on his desk, "Chocolate, anyone?"

None of the Slytherin's accepted the offer, but all of the Gryffindor's - Marlene McKinnon, Mary Macdonald, Lily Evans, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, Sirius Black, and, of course, Remus Lupin - accepted it gratefully. Milo Bell turned 'round after giving a bit of chocolate to Remus and Sirius, and he suddenly remembered the note tied to the lid.

He furrowed his brow at the handwriting - it looked oddly familiar to him. When he had finished reading the note (it only took him a few seconds), he spun around as quickly as he could.

" _ACCIO CHOCOLATE_!" he called, and seven bits of chocolate came flying towards him from all different directions. "None of you ate that, did you?" he asked, panic rising up inside of him.

"No?" chorused the seven second year Gryffindor's. All of the students looked at Milo Bell in confusion as he frantically picked up the pieces of chocolate from the ground and carelessly threw them back into the box.

"Class is dismissed," he said, and he hastened towards the classroom door.

Milo Bell had never run so fast in all of his life.

He ran past groups of confused looking Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws - most of them had a free period at that moment. By the time he reached the stone gargoyles outside of Albus Dumbledore's office, he was completely out of breath.

" _Lemon drops_ ," he said hastily, and the stone gargoyles jumped off of their plinths.

Milo Bell was quite glad that the spiral staircase was charmed to carry its occupants up. He barged into Dumbledore's without so much as a knock.

Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his desk, looked up in surprise. "Hello, Professor, what can I do for you? Lemon drop?" Dumbledore gave Milo Bell and warm smile and gestured to the small glass bowl of yellow candies on his desk.

"No, Headmaster, no thank you," he took a moment to catch his breath, and Dumbledore furrowed his brow in concern.

"Whatever is the matter?"

Milo Bell walks over to the desk and dropped the box of chocolates in front of the old Headmaster. "Someone's tried to poison me,"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in shock and promptly grabbed the box of chocolates. "Are you certain?" he read the note that was still tied to the lid, and met eyes with Milo Bell. "Why would Penelope Burke want to poison you?"

"She didn't. Look, here," he pointed to the last line of the note, " _'We should see each other when you come back from Hogwarts'_ I never told her about Hogwarts; she doesn't even know I'm a wizard. I never told her because I thought it would put her into danger, especially with... you know... _the family_."

Dumbledore nodded slowly and plucked a chocolate from the box. "Who would want to poison you under the name of a muggle girl?"

"Orion Black."

Dumbledore looked skeptically at Milo Bell. "Are you certain it was Orion Black?"

"Yes, look at this. The i's? They're dotted weird, see. It looks like whoever wrote the note was obviously trying to make it seem like someone else wrote it, but I would recognize those stupid dots from anywhere. It's Orion's handwriting."

"Mr. Bell, I know that you have had some differences, but-"

" _LISTEN TO ME_!" Milo Bell snapped. Dumbledore looked taken aback by the sudden outburst, but he shut his mouth nonetheless. "We _know_ that he was coming after me, do we not? We _know_ that Voldemort wants me dead because I know too much. And we _know_ that he probably suspects that _I_ was the one who _told you_ about the bloody attack that was supposed to kill Penelope! They don't think that you were just sitting outside of her house all night for no reason, now do they?"

Milo Bell was fuming, and waving his hands dramatically to put further emphasis onto his points. Dumbledore pondered for a moment, and then turned back to the box. "And you're positive that this was Orion Black's doing?"

" _Yes_ ," he said, exasperated.

Dumbledore nodded and stood up from his desk, turning to Fawkes the Phoenix. "You know who to go to," he said, and Fawkes quickly swept out of the room. "We will start monitoring every owl that tries to come on and off of the grounds."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Milo shifted nervously, and he began wringing his hands. "Penelope-"

"We will place aurors outside of her home to ensure her safety," Dumbledore assured him.

Milo Bell nodded his head slowly, and he fell heavily into the seat behind him. "Merlin. I almost killed seven students."

The news spread like wildfire through the school; not only did someone try to poison their Defense teacher, they almost killed the entire Gryffindor second year class in the process. Before long, it was all the castle could talk about.

Regulus and Barty were walking together towards their Defense class the following day, listening intently to all of the whispers that were coming from the groups that they passed.

"Who do you think did it?" Barty whispered to Regulus when they were out of ear shot for anyone else in the halls.

Regulus shrugged, "Dunno."

Of course, he had his suspicions. There had to be a reason that the Dark Lord had spent so much time prying into Regulus's mind...

It was in that moment that Regulus realized he hadn't had a single night of uninterrupted sleep since the first week back from break. In fact, he hadn't given a second thought to Occlumency all month, either.

If Regulus didn't know any better, he might have thought that the Dark Lord had simply lost interest in Milo Bell.

Of course, this theory was quickly doused with the recent news of the murder attempt on their teacher. So why had the Dark Lord stopped trying to gather information? Had he simply started entering someone _else's_ mind?

"Hey, Barty?" Regulus asked, stopping the smaller boy just outside of the door into their classroom.

"Yeah?" Barty asked, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder and looking at Regulus curiously.

"Have you had any - er - _weird dreams_ , lately?"

"Weird dreams? No, I don't think so," Barty shrugged, "why?"

"No reason, just... no reason," and Regulus hastened into the classroom.

"... tried to _poison_ you?" Lennox Wright asked as Regulus and Barty entered the room.

Professor Bell was leaning back against the desk, hands clutching the edge of the wood on either side of his body to keep himself steady. "Yes, Miss Wright, the rumors are true," he looked up at the sound of the classroom door closing, and he smiled at the two boys. "Hello," he nodded at each of them in turn.

"Morning," Regulus muttered, and he dropped into his seat beside Deacon Ackland.

"Hi, Regulus," Deacon said, giving the other boy a warm smile.

Regulus looked at Deacon with a confused expression; he hadn't spoken to Regulus since the first week back from holiday, either. Sure, he had asked him for an extra sheet of parchment once and then returned the favor a few days later, but that was about as far as their dialogue had gone.

"Er - hi?" Regulus replied unsurely, and he promptly turned forward.

"How was your Valentine's Day?" Deacon asked - Regulus noticed that his voice showed genuine wonder.

"Uh - it was ok, I guess," Regulus was watching Deacon warily from the corner of his eye.

"Did you have a Valentine?"

"No," Regulus suddenly realized he hadn't yet asked Deacon about _his_ day. "How was yours?"

Deacon shrugged, "Could have been better. Fran was out all day with Clementine Bates - they're dating now, ya know. Not that you wouldn't know, they really like to show everyone every single chance that they get..." Regulus noted that Deacon's voice had a lilt of disdain to it, and it peaked Regulus's interest enough to turn his head towards the other boy. "Anyways, yeah, it was alright. Benji and I just stayed in the dorm and did homework all day."

"Hm. Fun." Regulus replied, but he was still looking curiously at Deacon; for whatever reason, he really didn't seem to like Clementine Bates.

"Yeah," Deacon gave Regulus a sheepish smile. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Oh yeah! And your brother was giving everyone a _very_ dramatic reenactment of what happened in their Defense class yesterday. It was quite funny."

Regulus nodded his head, and then looked forward again. "So I take it he isn't telling everyone I'm evil anymore? Or is that just a little side job for him now."

Deacon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, which was enough of an answer for Regulus. "So, he is."

"Regulus-" but Deacon was cut off before he could finish; Milo Bell cleared his throat in the front of the room and stood up straight.

"Hello, class! Welcome in, how was everyone's Valentine's Day? Mr. Rosier?" Professor Bell turned to Evan Rosier, who responded with a sneer and a muttered insult. "Alright, not very good, then. Let's see... Mr. Anderson?"

Everyone in the room turned to face Francesco, who had been glaring quite intensely at Regulus's back. "Huh?" he asked, hearing his name and snapping back to the class.

"How was your Valentine's Day?" Professor Bell gave the boy a smile.

Francesco seemed to light up with the question, and he leaned back in his seat. "It was wonderful. I got to hang out with my _girlfriend_ all day, because I have a girlfriend, if you didn't know-"

"Who wouldn't?" muttered Deacon, and Regulus tried very hard to suppress a laugh - it came out as an odd choking sound, and Deacon looked at him in concern.

"-we hung out _all day long_ on the grounds. It was _fantastic_."

Professor Bell gave Francesco an amused smile, and he heaved a sigh. "I remember when I was as young as you. My first Valentine's Day with a girl went terribly. Half-blood girl named Betsy McCarthy - my family didn't exactly _approve_ \- and I took her on a walk 'round the grounds here during our first year. We walked over to the Black Lake - she was really interested in Magical Creatures, and wanted to see the Giant Squid - and she leaned in to kiss me. I didn't know what to do, so I just kind of... stood there and turned my head a little too far so she was kissing the corner of my mouth. It was right awkward," he chuckled to himself and glanced at Francesco again. "Glad to hear your first Valentine's Day went better than mine."

"Did you ever talk to her again? Did you get to redeem yourself from the bad date?" asked Lottie Burton.

Professor Bell nodded his head. "Oh, yes. Never did tell my parents about it, though. They would have gone ballistic if they knew I was seeing a half-blood. Anyways, yeah, we went out until the middle of our third year."

"Why'd you break up?" Lennox asked.

"Oh, she met a girl and wanted to be with her instead. Far as I know, they're still together. Live somewhere North of Scotland." Professor Bell shrugged his shoulders.

Evan Rosier got a disgusted look on his face, "That's disgusting," he said.

Professor Bell gave him a hard stare. "They loved each other, I don't see anything _disgusting_ about that."

Evan Rosier muttered something that Regulus couldn't quite make out. Regulus, while trying to glance at Rosier, suddenly noticed the state of Deacon Ackland; he seemed tense, and his face was paler than usual.

Regulus glanced back over his shoulder at Francesco, who had returned to his normal activity of glaring at Regulus. Francesco raised an eyebrow when he noticed that Regulus was looking at him, and Regulus promptly turned forward again.

After that, class seemed a lot more tense than usual. Evan Rosier kept making offhand remarks about how 'disgusting' it was that someone would 'choose to be gay', which was making all of the Gryffindor's quite uncomfortable. Regulus wasn't _as_ uncomfortable with the remarks as everyone else, not because he agreed with what Rosier was saying - in fact, he didn't really _know_ if he agreed with what he was saying - but because he was used to the spewing of hate.

He had grown up in _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_ , so he had heard his fair share of hate being spewed at others; though, he did think that that hate was justified. It was towards muggles and mudbloods, after all, and if what was being said was true, then did it really matter _what_ was being said?

By the end of class, the Gryffindor's were ready to get out of there as soon as possible.

Deacon Ackland was the first to stand up, followed very closely behind by Francesco Anderson and Benjamin Stone.

"Dea, wait up!" Benji called, and he and Fran jogged to catch up with Deacon. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Deacon replied coldly. Francesco and Benjamin gave each other a worried look, and they both turned back to Deacon.

"I don't like that you're talking to that Regulus Black kid," Francesco said, assuming the spot to the left of Deacon. "He's one of those stupid blood purists. You should stay away from him."

"Yeah, and I don't like that you're dating Clementine Bates," Deacon replied shortly, speeding up his pace so as to put more distance between himself and the other two boys.

"What's wrong with Clem?" Francesco asked, a small frown on his face - he and Benji both assumed the same speed as Deacon fairly quickly, as they both had longer legs than the small boy.

Deacon faltered in his steps for the briefest of moments. "Nothing," and he practically ran away down the hall, leaving Francesco and Deacon alone - both were feeling as confused as ever.

"What's going on with him?" Fran asked, looking at Benji in confusion. Both of the boys resumed a normal walking speed.

Benji shrugged. "Dunno, mate," but even as he said it, realization dawned on him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"What?" Fran asked, realizing a few steps too late that the other boy had stopped. He spun around to face Benji, who was looking nervously at him.

"Er - alright, mate, but you have to _promise_ that you won't get all weird or angry or something," Benji said, and he shifted his weight anxiously from foot to foot.

"Ok, yeah, sure, promise. What's up?" the nervousness was practically radiating off of Benji, and soon enough, Fran felt it too.

"I-" Benji paused, trying to decide the best way to word what he needed to say.

"You what? Come on, you're making me nervous!"

Benji took a deep, shaky breath, and he looked squarely into Francesco's eyes. "I think he likes Clementine."

Later that night, after Astronomy class was over, Regulus didn't even give it a second thought when he flung himself into bed. He buried himself deep beneath the thick blankets and sighed contently, feeling the warmth seeping into his cold body. He hadn't gotten the _most_ sleep the night before - he had put off their Charms essay until the very last minute, and was up half the night trying to complete it. He was just excited to be able to get a full nights rest in the comfort of his own bed up in the Slytherin first year boys's dormitory.

However, the Dark Lord had other plans.


	16. Flipendo

Regulus Black woke up the next morning completely and utterly exhausted. All that he really wanted to do was go back to ignore his classes and go back to sleep.

So that's what he did.

Regulus woke up mid-afternoon. His face was smooshed into his pillow, and he was laying with his stomach pressed against the mattress with his legs bent in different directions. He groaned and used his hands to raise himself up, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness that was emanating from the lamp on his nightstand.

It took his eyes a few seconds to get used to the light, and for a brief moment he considered going back to sleep; it felt as though he had only been sleeping for a few minutes. However, he decided against it, and forced himself out of bed.

Regulus glanced 'round the room, stretching his arms up over his head and stifling a yawn. None of the other boys were there, and all of their book bags were gone.

Assuming that they were just up at breakfast, Regulus sat back on the edge of the bed and gave himself a few more minutes to reorient. He leisurely began changing into his uniform and robes, taking his time.

It was only when he saw that it was already halfway through their Defense Against the Dark Arts class that he started to panic.

He put on his shoes and grabbed his book bag as quickly as he could. Regulus sprinted as fast as he could towards the Defense classroom, and arrived there a few short minutes later.

Regulus pushed open the door and stepped inside quite abruptly, completely out of breath. Every single pair of eyes in the room turned to look at him, and Professor Bell - who appeared to be giving a lecture at the front of the room - looked at Regulus with an amused smile.

"Hello, Mr. Black. Nice of you to join us today," Evan Rosier snickered, and Regulus shot him a hard glare - though he could feel the flush creeping up his neck.

"Yeah - er - sorry," Regulus muttered, and he hastened to his seat.

Professor Bell stared at him in amusement for a few more seconds before turning back to the lecture he had been giving. It took Regulus a few moments to compose himself and get out his note-taking supplies, but he did it nonetheless.

"Are you ok?" Deacon Ackland whispered to Regulus, and Regulus looked over at him with confusion clear on his face. "I just mean - er - you weren't in Potions, and, well..." Deacon gestured to Regulus's uniform, which looked very messy indeed.

From the waist down, Regulus looked quite composed - he had on his shoes, plain black trousers, and a black belt 'round his waist. However, the rest of him didn't look nearly as clean-cut; his white oxford was only half-tucked into his trousers, the top three buttons were still undone, the sleeves were rolled up to the crooks of his elbows, and his Slytherin tie was draped loosely 'round his neck. He didn't even have on his vest or school robes.

Not to mention his hair, which was sticking up every-which-way.

"Oh, uh - er - yeah, just overslept," Regulus responded, and he turned forward once again.

Deacon looked at him in concern, "Did you not sleep well last night or something? Is everything alright?"

Regulus glanced over at Deacon, and he could see genuine concern etched into the features of the small boy's face. Regulus sighed and put his quill - which he had picked up to begin taking notes - down on the desk.

"No offense, but I really don't understand why you care. You know about my family, you know about all of the blood purity stuff that they - that _I_ \- believe in. I know that Francesco has probably been telling you not to talk to me since the beginning of the bloody year, so _why do you care so much about me_?" The truth was that this question had been nagging Regulus since after the incident in Defense.

He had called Deacon Ackland a mudblood, and it didn't even seem to have an _effect_ on the boy. Sure, he had definitely been sad after the word had been said, but he just bounced back so... so _quickly_. It was like it had never happened at all.

Regulus remembered Deacon's words from the time following the incident - remembered him telling Regulus that he didn't _really_ think he was bad. But what the bloody hell did this stupid mudblood know? Regulus was born and raised into the same beliefs as his parents - it was his life's purpose to help the Dark Lord with his plan of purifying the world; it was the only thing that he was good for in the eyes of his parents - in his own eyes. So of course he was gonna have the same beliefs as them - he _did_ believe that mudbloods and muggles were less than wizards, he _did_ believe that people like Deacon didn't deserve a place at a school for wizards.

But, then again, Deacon _was_ a wizard.

He was exceptional in Charms - always came second in top grade. Regulus had heard McGonagall gushing about how good Deacon was at Transfiguration to their class. Deacon was just as talented at magic than everyone else in the school - if not more.

But he wasn't _supposed_ to be, and that's what threw Regulus into such a loop.

Deacon was _supposed_ to be bad at magic - Regulus had been told that anyone who wasn't a pure-blooded wizard would be atrocious at it. Deacon was _supposed_ to be stupid and evil and mean, just like all of the muggles in the world. Regulus was _supposed_ to hate Deacon, and everyone knew this.

So _why didn't he_?

It was the same thing with Sirius.

Regulus knew that he _should_ hate his brother - everything that he believed in was enough to know that he _should_ hate him. But he just... _didn't_. Regulus felt like he was betraying everything that he believed in every time that he looked at his brother and wished that they were close again, or that he spoke to Deacon Ackland.

It made him feel lost.

Deacon cocked his head at Regulus, and then glanced over his shoulder at Francesco who - surely enough - was glaring quite intensely at Regulus's back. He watched as the smaller boy rolled his eyes and turned back to Regulus.

"I don't care if Fran doesn't want me to talk to you, it's not like he can choose who I hang out with." Deacon replied coldly - it seemed to Regulus that he had struck a nerve in the other boy.

Regulus was silent a moment. "Ok, that still doesn't answer my question. In case you couldn't tell, I... I don't like you very much, so can you just _leave me alone_? Merlin," he turned forward and picked his quill back up, copying down all of the new things that had been written on the board.

Deacon was silent, but Regulus didn't dare look over at him in fear that the guilt that he was trying oh-so-hard to suppress would show itself. So, he poured himself into taking detailed notes for the rest of the class period - he put extra care into the diagrams of the wand movements that Professor Bell was scribbling haphazardly, and Regulus thought that they actually looked quite good.

At the end of class, Regulus began stacking his notes to slip them into his bag. He saw Deacon going a lot slower than normal from the corner of his eye, and he noticed the forms of Benjamin Stone and Francesco Anderson moving to stand in front of Deacon and Regulus's shared desk.

"Hey Reg," Barty Crouch Jr. said, walking up beside Regulus.

Regulus glanced up from where he was shoving his notes into his book bag. "Hey Barty," he gave his best mate a smile, and then turned his face back to his book bag.

"You're Bartemius Crouch's son, yeah? The Head of Magical Law Enforcement?" Francesco asked Barty.

Regulus could see Barty tensing up at the name of his father, and he quickly turned to face Francesco. "Doesn't matter, does it?" he snapped.

Francesco raised an eyebrow, and a playful smile crept onto his face. "You of all people should know how much someone's family matters. _Especially_ when it comes to their... _character_."

Regulus stood up from his seat and slung his book bag over his shoulder. He stared with narrowed eyes at Francesco, who was still staring in amusement at Regulus. "Shut up, Anderson," Regulus said through clenched teeth.

"Why? Afraid I'm gonna slander your _lovely_ family and all of that stupid purist rubbish that you lot believe in? Is the spoiled little posh boy afraid that I'm gonna _hurt his little feelings_?"

Regulus was bawling his fists so tightly that he could feel his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. He could feel the flush creeping up his neck, but he just _didn't know what to say_.

"Yeah, don't really have a response, do you Black?" Francesco's cockiness was growing with every passing second that Regulus didn't respond.

Suddenly, Deacon stood up from his seat and stared Francesco squarely in the eyes. "Shut it, Fran. You're being mean."

Francesco and Regulus both looked at Deacon in shock - Benjamin and Barty were both gaping from the side-lines. Regulus was the first one to compose himself, and he moved his gaze to Deacon.

"I don't need a - a stupid mudblood defending me," he snapped, and Francesco Anderson lost it.

Before any of the other boys could process what had been said, Francesco had his wand drawn and pointed squarely at Regulus's chest.

" _FLIPENDO_!" he shouted, and Regulus was knocked backwards by a bright orange light.

" _EXPELLIARMUS_!" two voices shouted at once - Francesco's wand went flying out of his hand and towards the stronger spell-caster: Professor Bell. He stormed over to the group of boys, Francesco's wand clutched tightly in his left hand. " _WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE_?!" he bellowed.

"He started it!" Francesco said quickly, pointing towards Regulus - who had recovered from his fall backwards with the help of Barty.

"I did not!" Regulus shouted back.

"Yeah, Francesco did!" said Barty - who was still holding his wand from trying to disarm Francesco.

A yelling match quickly ensued; Regulus and Barty were screaming at Francesco and Benjamin, and Deacon was standing uncomfortably in the middle - unsure whose side to take.

" _QUIET_!" Professor Bell yelled, and everyone quickly shut up. "One at a time. Mr. Anderson, go."

"Well, Benji and I walked over here to wait for Deacon because we're his _friends_ ," Francesco shot Regulus a glare, "and then he starts getting all defensive for no reason. So I try to defend myself and then he calls Deacon the m-word. So I hexed him," by the end of his explanation, Francesco's eyes were fiery slits of anger, and they were directed pointedly towards Regulus.

Professor Bell gave Regulus a hard stare. "Mr. Black?"

"I wasn't even doing anything! I was putting my stupid notes away, minding my _own business_ , and he decides to ask about Barty's dad, like _his family means anything_ , and-"

Francesco scoffed. "Oh come on _Black_ , you of all people should know that who someone's family is matters,"

"Mr. Anderson. Enough." Professor Bell snapped. "Continue, Mr. Black,"

"As I was saying," Regulus shot a glare at Francesco. "So I _defended_ him, and then _Francesco_ starts talking about my family, and then _Deacon_ defends me like we're _friends_ or something - even though I've _told_ him I _don't like him_ \- and then Francesco _hexed_ me."

"BECAUSE YOU CALLED DEACON THE M-WORD!" Francesco shouted, and Regulus could tell that he _really_ wanted to hex him again.

"Is that true, Mr. Ackland?" Professor Bell asked, and he gave Deacon a stern - yet much calmer - glance.

Deacon shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Uh - er - yeah, I guess."

Professor Bell let out a frustrated sigh, and he reached up with his free hand - he had put Francesco's wand into the same hand as his wand - to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Mr. Black, twenty points from Slytherin for saying that word _again_. Mr. Anderson, twenty points from Gryffindor for hexing Mr. Black. Mr. Crouch, five points from Slytherin for drawing your wand-"

"That's not fair!" Regulus shouted, "Barty was just trying to disarm Francesco!"

" _Fine_. Two points, then. All five of you will be serving detention with me tomorrow morning. Ten o'clock. If you're late, I'll take more house points and assign you _all_ another detention. Understood?"

"Why all five of us? Deacon and I didn't do anything!" Benji shouted.

"Yes, Mr. Stone, you're right, you didn't do anything. You didn't even try to stop Mr. Anderson from hexing Mr. Black, and I can say with full-confidence that - had I not intervened - you would have taken to backing up Francesco." Professor Bell gave Benjamin Stone a very angry glare.

All five of the boys felt immensely uncomfortable under the gaze of Professor Bell - they could all tell that he was _beyond_ angry at this point. So, they all muttered various words that Professor Bell would account as 'understood', and rushed out of the room.

"That was rubbish!" Barty said as soon as he and Regulus were back in their dorm room - they both had another twenty minutes until they would be off to Charms.

"Yeah! Why the bloody hell did he take points from _you_? It was stupid!" Regulus said, and he threw his Defense book onto the top of his desk.

"Bloody house prejudice, that is," muttered Barty, and he threw himself onto his bed.

"What do you mean?" Regulus asked.

"I mean, there's no _way_ that he's that insufferable and wasn't a bloody Gryffindor, is there? And besides, he's been favoring the Gryffindor's since the beginning of the year!" Barty said.

Regulus nodded his head; to be honest, he had never really thought about what Milo Bell's Hogwarts house might have been. Gryffindor _did_ make a lot of sense.

"And _why_ did he take so many points away from you? _All_ you did was call that kid a mudblood, which he bloody _is_."

Regulus nodded his head in agreement, "Yeah!"

Though, a twisting in his stomach gave Regulus the tiniest little bit of doubt that he actually agreed with what Barty was saying...

The three Gryffindor boys arrived to the Defense classroom at 10:00 AM sharp. They would have been there a few minutes early, but Fran had insisted that he _needed_ to speak to Clementine. Benji and Deacon had both been standing quite awkwardly behind the couple, but Deacon definitely looked the most uncomfortable out of the two.

Benji eyed the smaller boy suspiciously, taking in his facial expressions and body language. He noticed the jealousy that flashed through Deacon's eyes for the briefest of moments when Francesco and Clementine hugged each other goodbye, and he felt a little bit proud of himself. So he was _right_ , Deacon really _did_ like Clementine.

After that, the walk to the Defense wing had been quite silent and awkward. Benji was walking slightly behind the other two, studying the way that Deacon interacted with Fran; he was really just trying to see if he could find any sort of body language or movement that would indicate an anger from Deacon to Francesco - he didn't see anything.

When they entered the classroom, it was to find Professor Bell at the front of the room leaning back against his desk, and - to their surprise - four other boys. Barty and Regulus were in their assigned seats, and they were both scribbling away at their respective bits of parchment. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were all also in what the boys assumed to be their assigned seats, though James and Sirius were sitting next to one another. Professor Bell looked up from where he was standing and smiled warmly.

"Welcome in! Please take the seats that you would normally sit in for class, and work on any classwork that you have." he said, and his eyes followed the three boys as they moved to their seats.

Detention passed by quite slowly for all of the boys. Deacon and Regulus worked in silence the entire time, both sitting as far away from the other as they possibly could at their desk. James and Sirius were whispering to one another the entire time, though Professor Bell didn't seem to mind. Everyone else was working normally, though Francesco was still sending the occasional glare towards Regulus's back.

"Alright," Professor Bell said after what seemed like an eternity, standing up from his desk, "I'm sure you've all learned your lessons?" He shot glances specifically at Sirius, James, Francesco, and Regulus.

"Yes, Professor, we promise we won't try to enchant the suits of armor to dance outside of your office again," Sirius said solemnly, and Regulus whipped his head towards his brother in surprise.

Professor Bell tried very hard to suppress a laugh. "Mr. Potter?"

James simply pointed to Sirius. "What he said."

"Mr. Lupin? Mr. Pettigrew?"

"We promise we won't try to distract you by setting off Filibuster's outside of your office door while Sirius and James enchant the suits of armor to dance," Remus replied, and Peter nodded his head - Regulus looked at them in even _more_ surprise.

"Mr. Stone?"

"I promise I'll try to stop Fran before he hexes someone." Benjamin responded.

"Mr. Anderson?"

"I promise I won't hex Black again, unless he deserves it, then I can't promise anything." Francesco responded, and Sirius whipped his head towards Francesco.

"Why the bloody hell did you hex my brother?" Sirius asked, a lilt of anger in his voice - Regulus could feel the back of his neck flush.

Francesco shrugged, "Deserved it."

"Mr. Crouch?" Professor Bell asked, turning everyone's attention back to himself.

"I promise I won't draw my wand on other students, unless they're _attacking my friends_ , then I don't promise anything."

Professor Bell sighed. "Mr. Black?"

"I promise I won't - er - instigate?" Regulus - more than anything - did not want to admit that he had called someone a mudblood in front of Sirius. He didn't really know why he didn't want Sirius to know, but something deep down inside of himself told him not to say anything further.

"Mr. Ackland?"

"Uh... I promise I won't - um - try to be friends with Regulus, I guess?" Deacon wasn't even entirely sure _why he was there_ in the first place, let alone what to apologize for.

Professor Bell pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Alright, you're all dismissed. Ackland, Anderson, Black, you three stay." Sirius and Regulus glanced at one another for a brief moment, and then up at Professor Bell. "The little one."

Sirius got an amused smirk on his face, and he - along with the other three marauders - left the room. Benjamin and Barty left rather reluctantly, silently promising their friends that they would be waiting outside of the classroom for them.

When the door had shut behind them, Professor Bell turned to the group of boys before him. "You three are going to need to learn how to get along. Because I can promise you that - _at least_ for the next four years - you will be having a lot of classes together. So, whatever is going on between you three needs to _stop_. Am I understood?"

"Well, it would be easier if he wasn't such a... well, a _Black_ ," Francesco said, and he gestured towards Regulus.

"It would be easier if he wasn't so bloody insufferable," Regulus shot back, pointing to Francesco.

"It would easier if he wasn't such a stupid Slytherin."

"It would be easier if he would just _leave me the bloody hell alone_." This time, he gestured towards Deacon.

"I'm just trying to be nice!" Deacon said, looking at Regulus.

"Well, I don't _want_ you to be nice to me. It's stupid. I'm not even nice to _you_." 

"See! He's rude to Deacon for no reason except for his stupid blood status!" Francesco shouted.

They started yelling at one another. " _ENOUGH_." Professor Bell roared. "You three are absolutely intolerable. Mr. Anderson, I do not think that Mr. Black's house is a good reason to be horrible to him."

"I've never met a good Slytherin, that has to mean something," Francesco muttered.

Professor Bell shot him an intense glare. "I was in Slytherin."

A shocked silence fell over the three boys. How in the name of Merlin had Milo Bell been a Slytherin?

"So, unless you think I'm bad, then you have met a Slytherin who wasn't bad. And quite frankly, Mr. Anderson, it is absolutely vile that you decide not to like people purely based on their house."

Francesco was quiet a moment. "Ok, well, he's still a Black, and-"

"So is Sirius Black. Do you hate him?"

"No, but that's because he's different! He's not like his stupid family, he doesn't believe in the same rubbish that they do. That _he_ does," he pointed to Regulus.

Milo Bell was silent a moment - he couldn't exactly argue with that. He let out a dismayed sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. "I am merely suggesting that you three find a way to get along, or at least stay out of each others way instead of intentionally trying to cause drama and harm to one another?"

"Yes Professor," the three boys muttered in unison.

"Good. You may go."

Milo Bell watched as the three boys scrambled out of the room, shaking his head slowly. His eyes stayed trained specifically on Regulus, until he was out of sight. Milo Bell walked 'round to his desk chair and dropped down heavily, letting out a deep sigh.

Milo Bell opened his eyes, and they landed immediately upon the essay that Regulus Black had turned in the day before. He stared at the name on the top of the parchment and thought of the smaller Black brother. He thought about the look that came over his face every time he said the word _'mudblood'_ , the guilt and discomfort that distorted his features the second the word left the boy's mouth. He thought of the look of longing and envy that he would often see Regulus involuntarily giving his brother in the Great Hall. He thought of the fear that would flash through the boy's eyes for just a fraction of a second every time his family was mentioned.

And he thought of Orion Black.

_Oh Orion_ , he thought, _what have you done to that poor boy?_

The next few months seemed to morph and bleed together. Before the students knew it, it was reaching the end of May, and exams would be starting soon.

Students could be seen in every corner of the school, studying frantically for their end of year exams. The fifth and seventh years gave were radiating stress, and a few of them had even managed to bring themselves to passing out from stress.

Nothing had transpired between the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years since their detention in February. Deacon seemed to have given up the effort of becoming friends with Regulus, which Regulus was absolutely overjoyed about.

He hated the feeling of guilt that would overcome him whenever he said something mean to the smaller boy. He hated Deacon Ackland. And he hated himself for hating Deacon Ackland. It was a vicious cycle of hate and guilt and anger and a feeling of betrayal that would circle its way 'round Regulus's head every single time Deacon would try to speak to him.

But he hadn't felt like that in months now, and it was great. What was even better, the Dark Lord had - it seemed - completely lost interest in Regulus's mind. He hadn't entered it at all since February, and Regulus was as well-rested as ever. However, Sirius was still actively avoiding anything and everything that had to do with Regulus - but Regulus did his best to suppress this thought so that he wouldn't feel the negative feelings that always came attached to those thoughts.

All in all, life at Hogwarts was going fantastic.

The Dark Lord, however, had never been more angry.

Orion Black was called to Lestrange Manor on the evening of 30 May. He entered the parlor, and found it to be in complete shambles. There was broken furniture, pages torn from books scattered across the floor, holes in the walls, and the door was barely hanging on. A feeling of dread crept its way up Orion's spine.

"Orion," the Dark Lord said in a cold, calculated tone. He was pacing the perimeter of the room, hands clasped behind his back. "I'm sure you're aware why I have called you here today?" his voice was becoming less calculated, and more of a low-snarl.

"Milo Bell, my lord," Orion replied.

" _Milo. Bell_. Tell me, Orion, how is it that Milo Bell continues to live, even after I have _specifically commanded you to kill him_?"

Orion's face paled. "My lord, Milo Bell is under the protections of Hogwarts. He is under the protection of Dumbledore. Forgive me, but there is not much that I can do while he is safely in the walls of that castle. I have tried poisoning him, but I was unsuccessful. I do not know what else to do, my lord. Forgive me, please," the last three words came out as but a squeak.

"How about we give you a bit of an... _incentive_ , shall we? I have told the Selwyn's that they will be helping you with your mission of killing Milo Bell. If he is not dead by the end of July, you will _all_ suffer. Am I understood, Orion Black?"

"Yes, my lord. Thank you."

"Do not thank me, Orion. Just _kill Milo Bell_."

"I will, my lord, I swear it."

"Good. Now go."

Orion didn't hesitate. He left Lestrange Manor and apparated to the front stoop of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

When he opened the door, it was to find Walburga Black waiting eagerly. "What did he say?"

"The Selwyn's are to help me. He said that if... if Milo Bell isn't dead by the end of July, then we will all suffer." Orion replied.

Walburga's body tensed, and she clenched her fists tightly at her sides. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I DON'T KNOW!" he slammed his fist against the wall, and Walburga stared at him coldly. He took a few seconds to compose himself, and he turned back to his wife. "I need to find a way to get to him. To get him away from Hogwarts. To-"

_That's it._

"That's it," he breathed, and he quickly opened the front door.

"What are you going to do?" Walburga asked, following him out onto the front step.

"I'm going to draw him away from Hogwarts."

Without any further word, Orion Black closed his eyes and focused very, very hard. He had only seen the place he needed to go in pictures, and he wasn't even necessarily sure _where it was_. He just hoped that the image in his mind would be enough.

He spun on the spot, and disapparated.

When he reappeared at his destination, he opened his eyes and looked around quickly. A twisted smile appeared on his face - _it worked_.

He was standing squarely in the middle of Penelope Burke's living room.


	17. Milo Bell

Milo Bell was sitting in his office on the evening of Saturday, 2 June.

He was grading papers that he had received from his second years the day before - though they had absolutely nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Gryffindor students in Milo Bell's seconds year Gryffindor/Slytherin class were very... _interesting_ , to him. Especially Sirius Black.

So, he introduced an idea to the class. Write him a paper about themselves at the beginning and end of the year, so that they could look back at them someday and see how much they changed over the course of just one year. None of the Slytherin students wanted to do it, though, so he told them all that it would be an extra-credit assignment.

He had received a letter at the beginning and end of the year from every single one of the Gryffindor second years, and he was busy comparing them with their ones from the beginning of the year. He had given the class various questions to ask in their essay, including one which was _"What do you want most?"_.

At the beginning of the year, Sirius Black's answer had stuck out to him the most, for it was entirely about his brother Regulus. This one, however, was _much_ different.

_What I want more than anything is to be able to spend the summer with my best mates. I don't want to go back to be around my stupid family and all of their rubbish beliefs. I especially don't want to be around that stupid little tosser, Regulus. If I could never see him again, it would be absolutely fantastic._

Milo Bell furrowed his brow and set the two essays down onto his desk beside one another. What had happened in the past year to cause such a drastic change in attitude? He didn't really have time to ponder this, however, for an owl had started tapping its talons against the window.

_tap-tap-tap-tap-tap_

"Alright, alright," he got up and walked towards the window - only when he was a mere few yards away, did he realize who it was. It was the Black family owl - Achilles. He slid the window open as fast as he possibly could, and the owl came soaring in, with a letter tied to its leg.

Milo Bell untied the letter and shooed the owl out of the window - much to its dislike. Milo Bell read the front of the envelope, and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

_Regulus Black_

Why had Milo Bell received a letter that was meant for Regulus Black? A panic set in when he realized that owls were _never_ wrong. Whoever this letter may be addressed to, it was _definitely meant_ for Milo Bell - addressing it to Regulus Black was most definitely a precaution to make sure that it could get into the school without sounding hundreds of alarms.

He tore it open and pulled out two things. The first was a very small slip of parchment, and the second was a tiny, flat parcel wrapped in brown paper. He read the letter first:

_Ironic, isn't it? Penelope Burke was the one to draw you away, and now she's the one to draw you right back._ 9 Lyon Road, Wimbledon, London _. 8 PM. Even a minute later, and she'll be dead._

_O.B._

Milo Bell tore open the parcel, and out fell a lock of very dark brown curly hair. _A lock of Penelope Burke's hair_. The panic that had been rising in him ever-so-slolwy reared itself, and he took off.

He threw the hair, note, and brown paper onto the ground and ran faster than he ever had before; he _needed_ to get to Penelope. He wasn't sure what time it was exactly, but he knew that he couldn't waste anymore time.

He sprinted past the groups of students who were leaving the Great Hall from dinner, and ran smack into Sirius Black.

"Woah, hey, sorry Professor!" Sirius said, stumbling backwards. Remus and James grabbed onto either one of his arms to steady him, but Milo Bell was long gone. "Where the bloody hell is he off to?"

"Dunno," James said, shrugging and searching for their Professor - it seemed that he had disappeared.

Really, he had just emerged out onto the grounds of the school. He headed straight for the gates, drawing his wand and casting several silent spells towards them on his way. By the time he reached the entrance gates, the protection charms had been lifted just long enough to allow him through.

As soon as he got off of the grounds and into the area where he would be able to apparate, that's just what he did.

He appeared in Wimbledon Park a fraction of a second later, and he ran. The park was the only place in Wimbledon that he had ever been to, and therefore was the only place near enough to the address he had been given that he could apparate to.

He remembered coming to this park with Penelope Burke, and his heart ached. He ran faster.

It took him what felt like hours to reach his destination, but he did. He was completely out of breath, and he hesitated for just a moment outside to scope his surroundings.

He was in a dark, empty parking lot that was only illuminated by a few dim street lamps. In front of him, the building that he assumed he was to walk into, was a giant empty warehouse. The windows were boarded up, and it appeared that the doors had been too - someone had come and ripped the boards off. He wasn't very sure why he had been led to _this_ building, but he was assuming that Orion didn't want to intentionally give up the names and addresses of other Death Eaters in the very small chance that Milo survived.

Milo Bell wondered for just a moment about an escape plan, and he tried to apparate. No luck. Orion had gone to great measures to be sure that Milo couldn't escape. He wondered briefly if the warehouse was unplottable - if Orion was secret keeper, he wrote the address for Milo and he would be able to see it.

He took a deep breath, and with his inhale, he straightened his spine as tall as he could go. He took a few more moments to compose himself - if he had any chance of getting out of this alive and saving Penelope, he needed to be able to think straight. So, he allowed images to travel through his mind of what exactly he might find in the building before him.

He took one last deep breath, and strode as steady as he could towards the only entrance that he could see.

It was dark inside. The floor was nothing but dirt and broken bits of stone, wood, and concrete. The walls were made of what appeared to be sheets of metal, and there were metal beams high up in the rafters. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, but it didn't do anything - he still couldn't see a single thing.

"I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to show up," a familiar voice drawled, and Milo tried very hard to keep his composure. The voice was very close to him, and it seemed to have come from directly before himself.

"Why wouldn't I?" Milo said as steadily as possible.

A low chuckle emanated from behind him, and he spun around as quickly as he could. Suddenly - with what he assumed to be the wave of a wand - the lights that hung through the rafter overhead flickered on.

Milo Bell was completely surrounded by a circle Death Eaters.

Most of them were wearing dark cloaks and grotesque-looking masks to conceal their identities, except for a select few. Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't even trying to conceal herself, and was hopping happily from foot to foot with a twisted smile upon her sharp face. Orion Black was circling him, striding 'round the circle with excited eyes. There were two people whom he didn't recognize, but he thought that he could see the resemblance between them and one of his students, Constance Selwyn. Finally, Milo turned himself around completely, and his eyes met those of Voldemort.

"Hello, Mr. Black," Voldemort drawled, and he took over Orion's job of pacing the circle - Orion assumed the place where Voldemort had been standing.

Milo Bell tensed at the name. "Tom," he greeted Voldemort, and he faltered in his step for the slightest of seconds.

"Ah, I see. Dumbledore told you, did he? Well, appears we've both changed ourselves, haven't we?"

"Appears so."

Voldemort paused his pacing directly in front of Milo, and he looked at him with a twisted smile.

"Where is she?" Milo asked - if he was going to escape with Penelope, he needed to at _least_ know where she was.

Voldemort cocked his head, and he eyed Milo Bell up and down. The close proximity of the two allowed Milo to see just how different the man had become. His features were still those of a handsome man, but it appeared that they had become almost _distorted_ over time. They just looked... _different_.

"Yes, yes I do look different, don't I?" Voldemort drawled, and Milo felt a shiver run down his spine - _Voldemort can read minds._ "Considering how much time you spent working for me, I would think that you wouldn't have been able to forget."

"Well, I don't exactly give you much thought anymore," Milo responded, and Voldemort's eye twitched.

"Yes, well, I wish I could say the same. You see, Milo, you have caused me quite a lot of trouble over the past seven years. Escaping Orion's grasp, spilling my plans to Dumbledore so that you could save your _precious muggle girl_. Quite a lot of trouble, indeed."

"Well, unlike the rest of my family, I don't believe in following someone because of empty threats and intimidating words."

"Empty threats, you say?" A smirk was playing on his pale lips, and he pointed towards a cloaked figure with his bone-white wand. "Go," Milo watched as the figure removed themselves from the circle, and the other Death Eaters quickly filled in the spot.

Milo Bell needed to come up with an escape plan, and he needed to come up with it fast. But how was he supposed to when he was in the presence of someone who could _read minds_?

Milo watched as the Death Eater walked to a small door and pulled it open. They cast a silent levitation charm and started back towards the circle, something following close behind them. Milo felt his heart clench.

Penelope Burke was unconscious, her dark brown hair creating a curtain over her face. The other Death Eaters parted for a fraction of a second to allow their associate back their place in the circle. He released the spell, and Penelope Burke fell on the ground at Voldemort's feet.

" _Enervate_ ," he said lazily, and Penelope Burke gasped for air.

Milo Bell remained composed - he didn't dare look at her.

Voldemort glanced in amusement between the woman scrambling to sit up on the ground and the man staring forward with a blank expression on his face. He looked Milo Bell squarely in the eyes, and forced his way into his thoughts.

In that moment, his thoughts were nothing but clouded snippets of memories and words that he couldn't make out. He saw flashes of childhood memories - Milo Black and his older cousin, Orion Black, talking and spending time together. The introduction of Milo Black to his two newest cousins - Sirius and Regulus Black. Saw the lack of meetings after that - Sirius and Regulus may have never known that they had a cousin Milo at all, as though Orion were trying to conceal him from his two sons.

He saw a flash of Penelope Burke's face - just a muggle girl sitting on the front porch of her little house. Saw it all from Milo Bell's perspective - the way he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the girls in awe. He felt the feeling of affection and attraction and regret and guilt that had filled Milo Bell up in that moment, and Voldemort shuddered uncomfortably.

He saw Milo Black back at his house months later, saw him stepping through the floo network and landing in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place seven years before. Saw through his eyes as he walked into the parlor and stared at the family tree that covered the wall. He watched as Milo performed the most complicated magic that Voldemort thought he could've possessed and removed himself completely - removed himself from the Black family. He watched as the branch that once extended to Milo Black faded completely. He saw him sneaking up through the empty house and into the quiet library. Watched him look at the portrait of his four cousins - Orion, Walburga, Sirius, and Regulus - one last time. He watched him taking the cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff - the Horcrux that Voldemort had trusted the Black's with - and escaped through the floo before the Black's could return.

He watched a series of flashes - flashes that showed the love story of Penelope Burke and Milo Black. Their first meeting. Their first date. First kiss. First 'I love you'. The house that they slowly turned into a home - together. The endless nights full of talking and laughing. The family dinners. The talk of having kids and raising a family together. The relationship that spanned on for six, everlasting years.

Voldemort observed the lack of magic. It appeared that Milo had left his magic behind, for he didn't use it in the six consecutive years that he spent with Penelope Burke. She never knew.

He saw the day, 13 August, 1972, that Orion Black had cornered Milo Bell after a long, six year search. Saw a very similar scenario to the one that he was in now. Watched from his eyes as he escaped his childhood home with nothing but a scratch and far too much information. He saw Milo telling Dumbledore all of the information that he had gathered, and he heard their plans being made. Heard the job get offered to him, and felt the reluctance that Milo Bell had to take it. Watched Dumbledore and Milo _decide_ on the name Milo Bell.

The next set of flashes was what surprised Voldemort the most, for it was nothing but short scenes of Sirius and Regulus. The two boys in class - Sirius Black causing trouble and goofing around with his three best mates - Regulus Black and another boy that Voldemort recognized from the memories that he had explored with Regulus in his own mind.

When he pulled out of his mind, Milo Black had the smallest hint of a tear in his eye, and Voldemort knew that he had seen the memories, too.

"So," Voldemort breathed, "that's how you removed yourself, is it? Why not just let them blast you off the tree?"

"Because they choose to blast people off of the tree knowing that they can simply remove them. They want to blast people off in the hope that it'll make them feel shame. I can assure you, Andromeda Black felt absolutely no shame when you blasted her off of the tree, just as I didn't when I removed myself completely." Milo responded - the last sentence was directed solely to Orion Black.

"Milo?" A voice croaked from the ground, and Voldemort looked down in surprise - he had almost forgotten that she was there at all.

Milo didn't move his head in the slightest. He just continued to stare resolutely at Voldemort, who - it appeared - was having much more fun than he would have liked to put on. "Well, that was a sweet little love story, now wasn't it? Muggle girl and pure-blooded wizard, muggle girl changes the beliefs of the wizard, and they live _happily ever after_. Nice, isn't it?"

A low rumble of chuckles rose from the circle of Death Eaters, and Voldemort gave Milo a twisted grin - his pearly white teeth were all on display.

"Milo? Who is this? What's going on?" Penelope asked. She was sitting up straight, but it looked like - for whatever reason - she was too weak to stand.

Milo wanted more than anything to keep looking at Voldemort, to not have to look down at Penelope - the woman who he loved more than anything - who he had put into danger. It was _his_ fault that she was here. But the crack in her voice, the way that she said those words, he couldn't help himself.

He looked down, and met the soft brown eyes of Penelope Burke. He could see the fear that filled them, and his heart broke for her. "I'm sorry," he breathed, "I'm so, so sorry."

Voldemort tsked and stepped closer to Penelope Burke, grabbing a fist full of her hair and pulling her from the ground. Milo's eyes followed her as she let out a yelp of pain and tried to get out of the grasp of this strange man. "Orion," Voldemort said, and he backed away so that he was holding Penelope Burke at arms length, "take the muggle."

Orion Black sauntered forward and cast a silent charm that held Penelope upright. Voldemort let go of her hair and wiped his head across his robes, circling the three forms. Orion's eyes were darting between Penelope and Milo.

"Well, Orion, I believe that your dear cousin here believes that my threats are... what did you say? _Empty_?" Voldemort cooed, and the dread that had been filling Milo since he first received the letter multiplied exponentially.

Bellatrix let out a high-pitched screech of excitement, and she clapped loudly. "Kill her, my lord! Kill them both!"

"Calm, Bella," Voldemort raised a hand to subdue Bellatrix's excitement. "All in good time."

Orion looked at Voldemort, who gave him a small nod. With a smile upon his face, Orion walked around and stopped behind Penelope Burke. He raised his wand and pressed it to the back of her head, looking Milo Black squarely in the eyes.

"Anything you'd like to say?" Orion asked, raising an eyebrow.

Milo closed his eyes and took a shaky breath - he knew in that moment that there was no chance of saving her. And it was _all his fault_. He opened his eyes again, and met her eyes. Met the eyes of the girl who had changed his life - who had saved him. However, he couldn't save her.

"I love you," he said, and a single tear cascaded down his cheek, "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," she said, though her voice was weak and wobbly with fear.

Orion Black feigned a yawn, and he waved a dismissive hand at Milo. "Let's just get this over with, I'd like to make it home before midnight," a sick smile reared itself onto his face.

Milo couldn't watch.

He closed his eyes, and squeezed his hands into trembling fists. His ears started to ring, so loudly that he couldn't hear the spell being cast - but he knew that it had; a flash of green light erupted from the tip of Orion's wand, and Milo Black felt Penelope Burke's body fall at his feet.

Albus Dumbledore was in his office.

He glanced up at the clock on his wall and checked the time: 10 PM. He let out a stifled yawn and signed the last of the documents on his desk, adding it to the stack. Relieved that he had finished his work for the day, he stood up and walked over to the perch where his pet phoenix was settled.

"Hello, old friend," Dumbledore murmured, and he held out a bent finger. Fawkes bent his head and nibbled on it lovingly. "Almost your time, isn't it?" He noticed the frail way that Fawkes was moving, and he knew that the bird was getting quite old. It was almost time for his burning.

Suddenly, his office door was slammed open, and in stumbled a very worn and disheveled looking Milo Bell. Dumbledore hastened to his side, helping him into one of the chairs before his desk.

"What's happened?" Dumbledore asked, and he rushed 'round to the other side of his desk as quickly as he could.

Milo Bell looked up at him with a numb expression on his face. "Penelope Burke. She's dead. Tried to kill me too, managed to get away."

Dumbledore furrowed his brow in concern. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"I just bloody did! Orion got to Penelope and he - he used her to draw me out and then he just - he killed her! HE KILLED HER! YOU SAID THAT YOU WOULD PROTECT HER! YOU SAID SHE'D BE SAFE!" Milo Bell was standing and leaning angrily towards Dumbledore, his face red with emotion and fury.

Dumbledore remained composed. "We did everything we could. We put aurors on constant patrol outside of her house. _She was safe_."

"WELL OBVIOUSLY SHE FUCKING WASN'T!" Milo bellowed, and silent tears poured over his waterline. He shook his head and started to back away from Dumbledore's desk slowly, tripping and stumbling on one of the chairs. "Fuck you."

Dumbledore stood from behind his desk and walked 'round so that he was closer to Milo, who was still actively keeping distance between the two of them. "I'm sorry, Milo. I truly am. We will get revenge for her, I promise. You will stay here, and we'll get the rest of the Order, and we'll-"

"No. No, I'm not staying here. I'll avenge her my blood self. I quit," and with that, Milo Bell disappeared through the door of Dumbledore's office.

The old headmaster let out a deep sigh and slowly made his way towards the window. He watched from the sill as Milo Bell ran across the grounds, through the front gates of the school, and disapparated on the spot.


	18. Remus Lupin's Secret

The next morning, Dumbledore announced the resignation of their Defense teacher. This meant that, for the rest of term, all DADA classes would be cancelled, and all Defense exams (for everyone except O.W.L and N.E.W.T students) would be cancelled.

Everyone was ecstatic about the cancellation of class and exams, but they were all quite sad to hear that Milo Bell wouldn't be teaching them Defense for the next year.

The Slytherin's, however, were over the moon with joy. The Defense teacher was finally gone!

Regulus Black was less happy about the news.

He didn't know why, but losing Milo Bell as a teacher just felt like such a... well, a _loss_. He had just felt so... connected with the teacher. Sure, he wasn't exactly the _biggest_ fan, and he knew that he should've hated him because of how much the other Slytherin's did, but he didn't.

Nevertheless, Regulus tried to enjoy his last few weeks at Hogwarts as best he could.

It was on Thursday, 14 of June that Regulus noticed the first odd thing about his brother that he had in months. He had been doing his best to avoid any thoughts of Sirius, for the fear that he would cave and try to speak to him. For Regulus was still longing to have a friendship with his brother again - sometimes, he felt it was what he wanted most.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be close with Sirius, he couldn't talk to him, and he had to hate him. _He had to hate him_.

So, he tried his best not to think about him.

But this day was different.

He glanced at the Gryffindor table at dinner - as he did everyday, though sometimes it felt involuntary. Instead of the normal stomach-twisting feeling longing that would usually fill him up, he was overcome by curiosity. Remus Lupin was missing from the table yet again. Regulus studied the state of Sirius and his two other mates; James and Sirius weren't really eating, merely just pushing food 'round their plates.

Regulus furrowed his brow. This had to have been the tenth time that Remus Lupin had been missing, and no one seemed to be giving it a second thought. Where did Remus Lupin go?

Regulus wanted to find out.

So, he stood up from the Slytherin table without any further questions and made his way towards the Slytherin common room. When he reached his dormitory, he closed the door and locked it using _Colloportus_.

Regulus paced for a few moments, trying to decide what the best plan of action would be. He narrowed it down to two options: ask Sirius or find out himself. He obviously chose the second one, so then the question became _how_?

He sat down on the edge of his bed and thought for a moment until it finally hit him. He promptly stood up and lifted his mattress, pulling out _The Art of Occlumency_. He had nearly forgotten that the book was under there, and he was quite grateful that he had remembered; even if it didn't help, at _least_ he would remember to pack it now.

He flipped to the table of contents and ran his finger down the page, hastily reading the names of the chapters. When he was finished, he was very upset to realize that there was absolutely nothing about learning Legilimency - only Occlumency. He sighed and shut the book, stowing it safely back underneath his mattress for the time being.

Regulus laid back and placed his hands on his stomach, staring at the darkness above him. School would be ending in exactly two weeks - he only had two weeks left at Hogwarts. Only two weeks away from his parents. Only two weeks away from the pressures and standards that his parents were putting onto him.

He _really_ didn't want to go back.

But, he suppressed this feeling of fear and yearning to stay at Hogwarts that filled him, and focused on the positive. Maybe Sirius would stay with one of his friends for the summer and Regulus would get to spend an _entire summer_ away from his older brother - if Sirius would even consider himself that anymore. Regulus would get to continue his work for the Dark Lord - he would be even closer to his dream of becoming a Death Eater! He would get to spend an entire summer away from the mudbloods that filled the school. He would get to accept the praise from his parents that came with being useful to the Dark Lord.

_This summer is going to be different_ , he told himself, _I'll be happier._

_Will I? Can I really be happy in a house like that without Sirius?_

_Yes. I can be happy without Sirius. Sirius is nothing but a stupid blood-traitor. He's as good as dead to me._

"Reg," Barty said, breaking Regulus out of his thoughts. Regulus sat up as the other three boys entered the dormitory after using _Alohamora_ on the door. "You ok?"

"What? Oh - uh - yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just tired is all," Regulus gave his friend a smile, which Barty returned.

"We have to get going to Astronomy, c'mon."

Regulus grabbed his Astronomy textbook and star chart, and the six first year Slytherin's made their way to the Astronomy Tower. Professor Itri was waiting eagerly for the students, a smile on his face.

"Hello, class!" the Professor greeted them as the students walked towards the telescope which were lined up against the rails. "Today, you'll all be working on the final draft of your star charts. Now, since today is a full moon, I would suggest taking the time to observe it, and also working on the moon aspect of your charts. Off you go," he smiled as the first years all began adjusting their telescopes.

By instinct, the first two stars that Regulus gravitated towards were Sirius and Regulus. He looked at his star chart to be sure that he had gotten their positions right which - of course - he had. So, he decided to take Professor Itri's advice and started to work on the moons. The moon aspect of the chart was quite easy, as he had been taking notes on it since the beginning of the year. All he needed to do was chart when all of the full moons took place, as well as chart the moon cycles in between.

It was while he was nearly done charting the full moons from September 1972-June 1973 that he realized a bit of a pattern. He furrowed his brow and started flipping through the pages of his start chart, looking at the exact dates of each full moon that had taken place during his first year.

Every single date correlated with the time that Remus Lupin would always mysteriously disappear.

"Alright, class, that's all for today," Professor Itri called, breaking Regulus from his concentration. "Remember, your star charts are due next Thursday, and that is also the day of you what? Your end of term exam! Have a good week, everyone!"

The Slytherin's scrambled out of the Astronomy tower - none as fast as Regulus, though. He was practically running down to the dungeons, and he reached his dorm room in no time. Immediately, he spread the pages of his star chart out and grabbed a piece of parchment from the drawer of his nightstand.

He quickly jotted down the days when he knew for sure that Remus Lupin had been missing. When he was done, he had a rough timeline of days from each month, and he quickly compared them to the full moons.

They all aligned.

Remus Lupin was definitely going missing every full moon.

But _why_?

Why did he _only_ disappear during the full moons, and why was it _every single month_?

It hit him, and a chill ran down his spine.

_No, it can't be... can it?_

At that moment, the other first years entered the dorm room. Regulus could tell that Barty wanted to ask him what was going on, but the smaller boy was far too tired. The other three boys changed into their pyjamas and climbed into their beds without so much as a word to one another.

When Regulus was certain that all of the boys were asleep, he gathered his star chart and parchment of dates from his bed, and he snuck down to the common room. Once he was safely down and sure that the common room was completely empty, he spread everything back out on the coffee table in front of the fire and sat cross-legged on the ground.

"Kreacher!" He called, though much more quietly that he normally might have done.

Kreacher appeared a few seconds later. "Kreacher is here, Kreacher is here! What is Master Regulus be needing?"

"Kreacher, I need you to get me... to get me..." he paused - what book would have the information that he was looking for? Defense Against the Dark Arts? But which year? He took a wild guess. "You can apparate within the walls, can't you?"

"Yes, Master Regulus, Kreacher is be being able to apparate inside of the walls of Hogwarts."

"Can you please apparate into the library and get me _The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts_ by... by... oh! By Arsenius Jigger. That's what I need." He didn't remember the name of any other Defense textbooks beside his own, and he wasn't even entirely sure which year this one was for. But it was his best bet.

"Yes, Master Regulus, Kreacher will get the book for you," and he disappeared.

Regulus subconsciously began picking at the skin 'round his fingernails form the nerves that were filling him up. If he was right about this... then that would mean...

Kreacher reappeared, holding a very thick looking book. "Here you are, Master Regulus! Kreacher is be getting your book!" Regulus hastily took the book from Kreacher and flipped to the table of contents. Sure enough, there was a chapter on werewolves.

"Thank you very much, Kreacher. You may go," Regulus said, and he shot a small smile at the elf.

"Kreacher is welcome!" and he disappeared with a _CRACK!_

Regulus quickly flipped open to page 394 and began reading. He read as quickly as possible, jotting several notes down onto the parchment beside him and chewing nervously on the end of his quill.

Finally, at half-past three in the morning, he was done. He held the parchment up to his face, and he deliberated over the two side-by-side lists that he had made.

**_Remus Lupin_ **   
_-missing 'round time of full moon every month_   
_-sick looking / full moon_   
_-weak / full moon_   
_-pale_   
_-lots of scars_   
_-worried friends_

**_Werewolf_ **   
_-transform / full moon_   
_-weak and sick looking / full moon_   
_-usually pale_   
_-scars from wolf-form_

Regulus dropped the parchment back down onto the desk with shaking hands.

_Remus Lupin is a werewolf._

Regulus quickly gathered everything back up and walked up to his dorm room - he just felt... _odd_. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and glanced down at the parchment - his evidence. He furrowed his brow and glanced up at the fire place, the picture of Salazar Slytherin sleeping peacefully above it. With a deep breath, he walked over to the fire place, balled up the parchment, and threw it in.

If anyone was going to find out about Remus Lupin being a werewolf, it would be because Regulus told them. Not by chance.

The next morning at breakfast, he wasn't even eating. He had his arms crossed on the table, and was biting the nails on his right hand as he studied Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter.

Remus Lupin, as he had suspected, was no where to be found.

"Hey, Reg, feeling ok?" Barty asked.

Regulus responded with a small grunt, but he didn't break his gaze away from the three Gryffindor's. Then, he decided to scan the table, to see if anyone else was acting similarly. _Did anyone else know_?

No one else seemed to be giving a similar reaction, so he came to the safe assumption that James, Peter, Sirius, and Remus were the only ones who knew.

Well, James, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and _Regulus_.

Suddenly, something broke his gaze away from the three boys; Remus Lupin had just come stumbling through the doors of the Great Hall. He had a bandage on his arm that was peaking out ever-so-slightly from the sleeve of his robe, and he was walking with a slight limp.

Regulus expected to feel scared next time he saw Remus Lupin, but he didn't. He felt... normal. Like nothing had happened. But of course, something had happened. Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and Regulus Black knew about it! But he truly didn't feel any different than normal.

He watched Remus plop down onto the seat next to Sirius, and watched as Sirius immediately began piling food onto Remus's plate and bombarding him with questions. For the briefest of moments, Regulus wondered if there was anything more to the way that Sirius was acting.

But of course there wasn't. Sirius was just being a concerned friend.

He had done the same for Regulus when the boys were younger. Whenever Regulus was sick, Sirius would refuse to leave his side except to bring him food or drinks or books or whatever else his little brother asked for. He would force the smaller boy to eat, always said, _"If you want to get better, you're going to have to eat."_ Whenever Regulus got hurt as a child, whether it be from an accident or from their parents anger, Sirius was always by his side within seconds. He wouldn't leave until he was positively certain, without-a-doubt, that Regulus was ok.

Regulus's heart ached.

But he pushed the feeling deep down, and turned to Barty. "Hey, is today our practical exam for Potions, or is that next Friday?"

Barty thought a moment. "I think it's next Friday. I think today we're just brewing a random potion for review or something," he shrugged, and Regulus nodded.

He turned back to face the four Gryffindor's, and he watched them until he had to leave the Great Hall.

On his way down to Potions, he let his mind wander. _Should_ he tell anyone about Remus's... er... _condition_? Should he tell Sirius that he knew?

Then, a thought crossed his mind. Should he tell the Dark Lord? Surely he would be interested in the information that a werewolf was attending Hogwarts. However, a feeling very, very deep down inside of Regulus told him that that was a _horrible_ idea.

Of course, there was always the threat that the Dark Lord would read Regulus's mind and find out himself.

For some reason, whatever that reason may be, this only added to Regulus's urge to learn Occlumency.

_I'll do it over the summer._

Barty and Regulus assumed their normal seats at their desk in Potions, right beside Deacon and Francesco. The two Gryffindor boys had taken to completely ignoring Regulus and Barty, and even Francesco's glares had stopped.

Of course, Regulus and Barty didn't know _why_. But Deacon did.

In mid-April, Deacon had become so sick of Francesco being mean to Regulus all the time, that he had just... _snapped_ , on the boy. He had screamed at him for a good three minutes, and by the end of it, Benji and Fran were both looking at him with the most shocked expressions that Deacon had ever seen.

Deacon wasn't sure why he had gotten so angry at Fran, Regulus Black _was_ a mean boy. But, ever since the end of Christmas break, he had just felt such a disdain for Fran. Deacon hated himself for feeling that way towards Fran, and he hated himself even more for the small feeling that often came twisted with it...

Deacon Ackland hated himself.

So, he took out all of his anger on his best mate in the form of harsh words and mean statements. After that, Fran's mean glares and snarky comments towards Regulus Black had stopped, but something had changed between he and Deacon, too. It was as though something between the two boys had severed, and neither was sure how to repair it.

Regulus dropped his book bag onto the ground and sat in his seat with a heavy sigh. Deacon and Francesco were definitely one of the pros of being home instead of Hogwarts - he wouldn't have to see _them_. But, something very deep inside of Regulus - which seemed to be twisting itself with all of the deep feelings that he had been subconsciously suppressing since Sirius had left for Hogwarts - didn't believe a word of what he was telling himself.

The end of term exams passed by in a flash. Of course, the students wouldn't be getting their results until the summer, but Regulus was confident. He had done fantastic in all of his classes, and he was just glad that they were over.

The end-of-term feast was absolutely brilliant, and by the end of it, Regulus was just glad to be able to go to sleep.

He woke up the following morning with a feeling of sadness that he couldn't quite place. He - along with the rest of the first year boys - wandered the room and made sure that all of their belongings were packed. Regulus had made sure to pack _The Art of Occlumency_ at the bottom of his trunk the night before when all of the other boys were asleep.

Evan Rosier had had the same idea. As soon as the other three boys left for breakfast, he pulled his thick stack of information on Regulus Black from underneath his mattress and shoved it into his trunk with a warped smile on his face.

Hogsmeade station was buzzing. The platform was covered in groups of friends who were saying their goodbyes to one another, and seventh years who were in absolute hysterics over saying goodbye to their school.

Regulus looked at them and wondered how it would feel when _he_ was a seventh year. Would he be a proper Death Eater then? Would he be successful and powerful, just like his parents wanted him to be? Would he and Sirius have somehow worked through their issues? _Would he be happy_?

Barty and Regulus got an empty compartment together, and Regulus leaned back against the wall, his feet on the bench and knees pulled up to his chest. He was biting his nails and glancing out of the window of their compartment. The train lurched forward, and they were off.

Regulus watched the castle of Hogwarts slowly fading away in the distance. He thought of the dreary confines of Number 12 Grimmauld Place - the place where he would be spending the next two months alone. He thought of the secret that he knew - Remus Lupin's secret - and how he needed to learn Occlumency if he wanted any chance of hiding it from the Dark Lord until the right moment.

Regulus pushed all of these worries deep down inside of himself and looked at his best mate, who appeared to be dreading summer just as much as Regulus was trying to pretend he wasn't.


	19. Happy Birthday, Master Regulus!

Regulus stepped into his bedroom at Number 12 and shut the door quietly behind himself. He dropped his book bag onto the floor and let out a deep sigh, looking at the room around himself.

His four-poster bed had been made recently - the covers, pillowcases, and duvet looked freshly washed. The curtains that surrounded it were fastened to the bedposts with small bits of black ribbon. His desk had also been recently organized - there was a neat stack of parchment in the middle with a quill and ink laid next to it.

He walked over to the desk and ran his fingers along the handle of the broom that he had received for Christmas. It looked like it had been recently polished, for there was absolutely no dust on it whatsoever. He smiled to himself at the thought of Kreacher caring so much about how neat and clean Regulus's room was.

He padded across the plush green circle rug that covered half of his room and dropped onto the bed. He continued to glance 'round the room - the curtains were pulled shut over the window, the lamps on his nightstands were on, and it looked like everything had been dusted.

The room was cold and dark, and it smelled quite musty and old - just like the rest of the house.

Regulus Black sighed and laid back on his bed, staring at the dark-green canopy above himself and crossing his hands across his stomach. He needed to find something to distract himself from the state that he would be living in until September.

Normally, he would be looking forward to his birthday, but considering that it had passed without so much as a mention from _anyone_ , he didn't have it anymore. To be fair, he hadn't exactly told any of his friends (i.e. Barty) when it was, so he couldn't really blame them for forgetting. To add to that, his birthday was on the Monday of the last week of school, so everyone was quite busy.

He was hoping that Sirius might have at least wished him a happy birthday, but considering he hadn't done the same, he couldn't really expect _anything_ from him. Aside from that, his parents hadn't even sent him a letter (though he played this off by assuming that they were just busy with their work for the Dark Lord). The only thing that he had received was his Hogwarts letter, which contained his book list for the following year.

Remembering the letter, he promptly grabbed his book bag from the floor and emptied the contents onto the bed. He rifled through the bits of parchment and books until he found the letter.

Sitting back down on his bed, he pulled out the letter and read it to himself once again; it was the only thing that he had received since the beginning of term that made him _truly happy_. When he was finished, he placed his Platform ¾ ticket safely on his nightstand and withdrew his supplies list for the year.

The only thing he needed to get that he didn't already have was _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk. Regulus was quite excited to start his second year, but no where _near_ as excited as he would be to start his third.

Third year was the year that students were introduced to the other classes at Hogwarts. Regulus wasn't entirely sure which other classes he wanted to take, but he was excited to get the option nonetheless.

But, that wouldn't be for another whole year.

Regulus sighed and shoved everything back into his book bag, leaving his Hogwarts letter securely on his nightstand. Regulus spent the next few hours either pacing, ruffling through the pages of the books that lined his book case, or sitting/laying in precarious places 'round the room. He had completely forgotten just how boring Number 12 was.

He had tried to summon Kreacher a few times to play a game, but Kreacher seemed reluctant, so Regulus didn't push him. He didn't want to have to command Kreacher to spend time with him, if he didn't want to then he shouldn't have to.

So, he spent the day alone.

A few times, he debated walking across the landing and asking Sirius if he wanted to play a game or something, but he always decided against it; he and Sirius were still completely set on ignoring one another. Sirius hadn't even spoken to Regulus once on the platform - the two boys had just walked in silence.

Regulus had hoped that - if Sirius was even coming home for the summer (which he secretly hoped he wouldn't) - that being away from the school would mean that the two brothers could be just that: brothers.

But, this wasn't the case.

So, he stayed in his room alone most of the day.

It was only at 8 PM that night that the sudden lonesomeness stopped. He hadn't eaten anything yet that day besides breakfast, and he was absolutely starved. He was about to call Kreacher, when the old house eld appeared on the end of Regulus's bed of his own accord. Regulus was so shocked by the sudden appearance that he nearly tumbled over backwards and off of his bed - he had been laying with half of his body draped off of the bed, his curly hair nearly touching the hardwood floor. _I really need a hair cut_ , he had thought to himself.

Regulus's sudden movement caused a nerve to pinch in the nape of his neck, and he let out a low yelp of pain.

"Kreacher is sorry he startled Master Regulus!" Kreacher said hastily, flapping his ears and hopping from foot-to-foot nervously.

"It's ok Kreacher," Regulus said, using all of his core strength to sit himself upright. He rotated himself on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard, and he crossed his legs. "What's that?" he noticed that Kreacher was holding a white box.

The hopping and flapping turned to that of happiness, and a smile came onto the old elf's face. "Kreacher has made something for Master Regulus! Kreacher has been being working on it all day!"

Kreacher padded over to Regulus and handed him the white box. Regulus took it gratefully and noticed that the elf had started ringing his old hands nervously as soon as the box left his grasp. He pulled open the top of the box, and he felt his heart leap.

Inside of the box was a messily-made cake with green frosting spread across it, and _'Happy Birthday, Master Regulus!'_ was written across the top in dark purple. The p's were backwards in happy, and Regulus's name was written quite small across the bottom, as though Kreacher had run out of room.

Nevertheless, Regulus felt involuntary tears fill his eyes. He looked up at Kreacher blearily, and he gave the elf a genuine smile. "Thank you, Kreacher," he said, though a lump had risen in his throat and his voice came out thick and weird-sounding.

"Kreacher is welcome! Does Master Regulus like his cake?"

"Yes, Kreacher. I love it."

That night, Kreacher and Regulus played multiple rounds of Exploding Snap and Gobstones, all while eating the cake that Kreacher had made his Master Regulus.

Orion Black, however, was having a much different night. After dropping his two sons off at Number 12 from King's Cross, he was called to Lestrange Manor to meet the Dark Lord. When he arrived, it was to find the Selwyn's had already arrived.

"Ah, Orion, there you are," the Dark Lord stood from his seat and began pacing circles 'round the group of three. "Now, down to business. I gave you until the end of July to kill Milo Black - or, should I say, _Milo Bell_. You have one month left. Have you come any closer than you were the night you _let him escape_?"

All three of them cowered at the words, but Orion was the first one to speak. "No, my lord, _we_ have not. However, I have been spending countless hours thinking of locations that Milo may be."

"And? Have you _checked_ any of them?"

"Not yet, my lord. I am still trying to come up with a plan," Orion could feel fear creeping up in him: _what if that wasn't good enough_?

The Dark Lord was silent a moment, and he had even faltered in his pacing. "Well, Orion, you will not be concerning yourself with Milo Bell anymore."

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"I mean, I have a new task for you. You have performed your part in the capture and murder of Milo Bell already, coming up with the plan that got us closer than ever before. So, Orion, I have decided to give _you_ a new task. Of course, Rose, Hamish, you two will still be expected to kill Milo Bell by the end of July, or else suffer the consequences. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal, my lord," Rose Selwyn responded.

"Good. You two may go."

The Selwyn's exited the parlor, and the Dark Lord waited until after he heard the _crack_ of disappiration to continue.

"I gave you a cup to guard, years ago. Do you remember this, Orion?" The Dark Lord had stopped pacing, and was now standing directly in front of Orion with his hands clasped behind his back.

Orion felt his blood run cold. "Yes, my lord. It got... _taken_."

"Yes, yes, I remember," he said this in a cold, flat tone that made Orion shiver. "Well, I know who has taken it and where it is. I need you to retrieve it for me."

"Where is it, my lord?"

"Milo Bell's house, wherever that may be. I expect you to find and bring me the cup by the end of the month."

"Yes, my lord, I will. I can assure you, you will have the cup back in no time."

Regulus Black awoke to a banging on his bedroom door. "REGULUS!" Walburga Black shrieked. "REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK! WAKE UP!"

"I'm awake, mother," Regulus croaked, wincing at the sunlight that beamed down on his face the second he pulled open the curtains that surrounded his bed.

"GET DRESSED AND COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!" and with that, he heard the retreating footsteps of his mother.

He reluctantly tossed the blanket off of himself, and was immediately overcome with a wave of cold air. He shivered and brought his hands up to his forearms, rubbing quite vigorously. He padded across the plush green rug, hesitating slightly before stepping onto the ice cold hardwood floor.

Regulus got dressed quickly - he was definitely dressed warmer than would normally be acceptable during the summer; he was even wearing a scarf with the Black family crest on one end of it.

When he reached the sitting room downstairs, it was to find both of his parents sitting stiffly on the uncomfortable dark-green sofa. Regulus skeptically sat in a chair across from his parents, straightening his posture and crossing one leg over the other.

"Mother, father," he nodded at them both in turn, and they both nodded back. "What's going on?"

"We missed your birthday while you were away at Hogwarts, so we wanted to know what you would like to do for it." Walburga responded in the same cold and flat tone that she always used.

Regulus was quite taken aback by this - he hadn't expected his parents to want to celebrate his birthday _at all_. He stayed in silence for a few moments. "Can I... uh - can I practice flying on my broom?"

Walburga and Orion looked at one another - it appeared that they were having a silent conversation with their eyes only. Finally, Walburga looked back at her youngest son and nodded her head. "Yes, Regulus, that is doable. Go get your broom, we'll leave in twenty minutes. And," Walburga looked at Orion, who nodded his head. Walburga gave an irritated sigh. "Tell your brother he must come, too." It sounded like it pained her to say the words.

Regulus was so shocked that his mouth fell open. " _Sirius_?"

"Yes, who else?" she snapped, and she shot a fiery glare at Regulus. "Go. Get. Him."

"Yes mother," he said quickly, and he promptly left the room.

Regulus paused at the bottom of the stairs, clutching the bannister. Why on _earth_ was Sirius coming? They had been back at Number 12 Grimmauld Place for three weeks already, and Regulus hadn't seen Sirius _once_. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he would think that Sirius wasn't at the house anymore at all.

The only indication that his brother was still living there was the times that Kreacher would have to leave the games that he and Regulus played because Sirius had called him to bring him food. Other than that, it was as though Sirius Black had ceased to exist at all.

Aside from that, why did Walburga Black want to bring Sirius along? She _despised_ Sirius. She hadn't said one positive thing about her older son since he got sorted Gryffindor. In fact, until this moment, Walburga had refused to acknowledge that Sirius was a member of the family at all.

And aside from _that_ , why was Walburga wanting celebrate Regulus's birthday _now_? His birthday was back in June, and it was already mid-July. She hadn't mentioned his birthday once all summer, so _why bring it up now_? Walburga _hated_ leaving the house.

He put all of these questions, concerns, and doubts aside and took a deep breath. The staircases of Number 12 Grimmauld Place had never felt longer. By the time he reached the landing that held both his and Sirius's bedroom doors, his legs felt like lead.

Regulus gathered every ounce of strength that he had, walked towards Sirius's door, and knocked with a shaky fist.

No answer came.

He knocked again.

Still no answer.

Regulus took a deep breath and composed himself. "Sirius?" he called. No answer. Regulus sighed. "Sirius, mother says you have to come with us to go-" the door flew open.

Sirius was standing in the doorway, clothes rumpled and shoulder-length hair tangled. He eyed Regulus suspiciously. " _What_?"

Regulus swallowed the nerves that were rising up in him. "Mother says that you have to come with us. I got a broom for Christmas and mother said that she'll take me to fly it as a late birthday present. She says you have to come."

Sirius scoffed and shook his head. "No she didn't. Mother would never willingly spend time with me. Stop lying," he started to close the door, but Regulus reached up a hand to stop him.

"I'm not lying!" Sirius tried to shove the door shut, but Regulus turned to the side and held it open with his shoulder. "Would you rather think I'm lying and have mother come up here instead?" he grunted, and Sirius stopped his efforts to close his door.

He opened the door back up quite abruptly, and Regulus came tumbling to the ground. Sirius stared down at him, obviously trying to suppress a laugh, and raised an eyebrow. "Mother _really_ said that?"

" _Yes_ ," Regulus sat up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder that had been caused by trying to keep the door open.

"Fine. Get out," and he tried to shove the door closed again, hitting Regulus hard in the back.

"Ow! Let me get up first, you bloody prick!" Regulus shouted.

"Well get up faster you tosser!" Sirius retorted, and he continued to push the door closed.

"I CAN'T WHEN YOU KEEP TRYING TO _CLOSE THE DOOR ON ME_!"

"WELL THEN GET UP!" Sirius stopped closing the door momentarily, giving Regulus just enough time to stand up and compose himself.

The second that he stepped over the threshold, Sirius slammed the door shut. Regulus walked across the landing to his own room and closed the door - though much more gently.

Kreacher was waiting at the foot of Regulus's bed.

"Hello, Master Regulus! What is you be wanting for breakfast?" Kreacher asked, flapping his ears happily.

Kreacher had taken to greeting Regulus before every meal to ask what he wanted; Regulus hadn't eaten a meal with his parents all summer. In fact, until today, Kreacher was really the only one that Regulus had interacted with inside of those walls.

Regulus smiled at the elf. "Good morning, Kreacher. I don't think I have time for breakfast, mother is taking me to go fly on my broom!"

The elf beamed at Regulus. "Oh, Kreacher is being excited for Master Regulus!"

"Thank you, Kreacher. I'll be back before lunch, I hope. Do you want to play a game of Gobstones later?"

"Kreacher would, Kreacher would!" the elf hopped happily from foot to foot.

"Great. Well, I'd better get going, mother might get angry. Have a good afternoon, Kreacher."

"Have fun, Master Regulus!"

Regulus grabbed his broom - which he hadn't touched since his first day back - and walked out of the room. He left the room at the same time as Sirius, and the two brothers met on the landing. Regulus widened his eyes at the outfit that his older brother had decided to wear.

Sirius was wearing a pair of black jeans with strategic rips throughout, a pair of chunky black Doc Martens and a t-shirt for a muggle band that Regulus had never heard of. Sirius had brushed through his hair, and he had stuck his wand behind his right ear.

"Mother's not gonna like that," Regulus stated, carefully eyeing his brother up and down.

"When have I ever cared what mother thinks of me?" Sirius replied, waving a dismissive hand and starting down the stairs.

Regulus followed closely behind. "You cared before you started at Hogwarts," Regulus muttered.

Sirius stopped on the stairs and turned 'round to face Regulus. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Walburga Black's shrieks from downstairs cut them off.

"REGULUS! HURRY UP, WE HAVE TO LEAVE! AND DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE BLOOD-TRAITOR!"

Sirius smirked. "See? Doesn't think much of me already, what's a little outfit like this gonna change?"

The two boys made it down the small entrance hallway where Walburga was waiting. She eyed both boys, but she spent extra time on Sirius. A look of disgust came over her pale face, and she lifted her chin regally.

"Come," she opened the front door and stepped out onto the front stoop, followed by Sirius and Regulus - though, Sirius was much more reluctant.

She gripped both of their arms tightly and disapparated with a loud _CRACK!_

All three of them appeared in an empty field, somewhere that neither of the boys recognized. "Well, go," she shooed the two boys away, and they both started walking.

Neither turned back, but they knew that their mother had probably gone to find a sanitary place to sit down. The grass was quite tall, and it reached all the way up to Regulus's mid-thigh - though it only reached up to just above Sirius's knees.

Both of the boys had grown during their time at Hogwarts, but Sirius had definitely grown the most out of the two; the top of Regulus's head just barely reached Sirius's eyebrows.

"So," Regulus started, moving his broom from one hand to the other, "er - how's your summer been?"

"Fine." Sirius replied. Regulus noticed that Sirius's voice had dropped a few octaves since Christmas, though it wasn't noticeably deeper unless one was paying very close attention.

Regulus nodded. The two boys walked in silence.

Suddenly, Sirius broke off and jogged over to a tree that sat almost directly in the middle of the field. Regulus watched his older brother expertly climb the tree and lay back across one of the lower branches.

Regulus and Sirius spent the next few hours in this field. Regulus had to remove his scarf and jacket from the heat, but otherwise he actually had a lot of fun. He spent the entire time flying 'round on his new broom, and it was as though he had forgotten just how much he liked it.

Orion Black, on the other hand, had other plans. He needed to get the two boys out of the house for the day, and Walburga had proposed the idea to pass it off as a late-birthday activity for Regulus. So, when his wife and sons left the house, he set to work.

He entered the library and locked the door behind himself with the flick of his wand. He placed his hands firmly on the edges of a large table in the corner, leaning over it and reading all of the papers that he had spread out.

He knew a few things: Milo Bell had stolen the cup from him. Milo Bell had kept the cup and hidden it somewhere. The Dark Lord did not know where the cup was. The Dark Lord trusted Orion to get the cup. Orion had messed up so many times when it came to Milo, that, if he failed in getting the cup, he was sure to be killed.

So, he needed to find this cup. But _where could it be_?

He had narrowed it down to two places. The home where Milo grew up, or the home of Penelope Burke which he had lived in for the past seven years.

Logically, Milo would not want to let the cup out of his sight. So, there was his answer.

Within seconds, Orion had left the house and apparated right back into the living room of Penelope Burke.

It was quaint little home with brightly-colored furniture and odd decorations. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he looked around; he couldn't see the cup anywhere.

So, he moved to a different room. This room was much more to his taste, for it was less bright and more neutral colored. He walked over and inspected the long shelves that lined the walls. They were absolutely covered in photos - photos of Milo and Penelope, friends of theirs, and who Orion could only assume to be Penelope's family.

Orion let a twisted smile creep onto his face at the sight of Penelope Burke. _He_ had killed her. _He_ had done that service for the Dark Lord. _He_ had been rid of that muggle-filth. He was quite proud of himself.

But, that didn't answer the question of where the cup was. So, he began tearing the room apart.

He ripped shelves from the walls, spilling all of their contents to floor. He threw things off of shelves and out of cases onto the floor, and he let out a frustrated sigh when he realized the cup wasn't there.

It took him several hours, and almost every single room in the house, until he finally found it.

He had just entered the bedroom of Milo Bell and Penelope Burke when he spotted it. The cup that had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff was sitting squarely in the middle of the dresser.

He hastened over and picked the cup up carefully, twisting it in his hands. A warped smile came onto his face: _he had done it_.

The Dark Lord would be _very_ pleased.


	20. Sick on the Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: emetophobia (mention of being sick towards the end of the chapter)

The end of July came and went, and Milo Bell had still not been successfully murdered.

Regulus Black was awoken in the middle of the night on 3 August to the sound of shuffling 'round his room. When he had gathered his wits about him, he froze. Had someone broken into the home? But, of course not, Number 12 was under a Fidelius Charm; no one who hadn't been invited by any of the Black's would be allowed inside.

Aside from the Dark Lord. Surely he had been told the address by Orion Black, who was secret keeper...

But why _the Dark Lord_ be in Regulus's bedroom in the middle of the night?

As though to answer his question, the curtains were suddenly pulled back. The pale, sharp face of Walburga Black appeared in Regulus's line of sight, and the expression on her face sent a shiver down his spine; it was one of fear. His mother _never_ wore expressions of fear, for she was never afraid.

"Regulus, get up. The Dark Lord has summoned us," she reached over and pulled the blankets off of Regulus, sending a gust of cold air over his thinly-clothed body.

He began to shiver uncontrollably and his teeth started to chatter. He wanted desperately to pull the blankets back over himself, for he felt like he may freeze to death if he didn't. Despite it being the middle of August, it still felt like winter inside of the drab and inhospitable walls that was Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Regulus, hurry!" Walburga hissed, and she threw a thick black coat at him. "Put on your traveling cloak and get on your shoes. The Dark Lord is waiting." She waited impatiently while Regulus slipped his arms through the thick, warm wool coat.

He hopped out of bed, and was thankful that he had placed his shoes on the border of the carpet so that he didn't have to walk with bare feet across the bitterly cold hardwood floors.

Once he was ready, she gripped his arm tightly and pulled him out onto the landing. "Be quiet," she hissed, leaning down so she was speaking directly into her youngest son's ear, "he must not wake up." Regulus knew she was talking about Sirius, and he glanced incredulously at his bedroom door.

He thought back to winter break, when he had found those letters from Sirius's friends indicating that he was planning on crashing a meeting with the Dark Lord. Regulus wondered what Sirius might have done, had he been truly put into that situation. Though, Regulus didn't need to think on the outcome very hard - he would have been killed for sure. Regulus found himself thinking about just how brave and reckless and dumb his older brother was, and how much Regulus had longed to be _just like him_ when the boys were younger.

_"I wanna be just like you when I get older, Siri!" Regulus had shouted once when his older brother had told a tale (which Regulus now knew was completely made up) about fighting a dragon._

_Sirius simply smiled down at his small, four-year-old little brother and ruffled the jet black curls atop his head lovingly. "You will be, Reggie. One day."_

Regulus's heart ached.

"Regulus!" Walburga sibilated, tugging on his arm harshly.

He broke his gaze from Sirius Black's bedroom door and followed his mother ruefully down the stairs. While the traveling cloak and shoes certainly helped, Regulus was still shuddering. When they reached the small space before the front door, Orion was waiting patiently. He looked much less frightened than Regulus's mother did, and this gave Regulus a bit of hope that perhaps the meeting - whatever it may be about - wouldn't be _that_ horrible.

His hopes were extinguished the second he stepped through the doors into the parlor of Lestrange Manor.

The tone of the room was like one that Regulus had never felt before. Everyone had stone-cold expressions on their face, and parents were clutching their children tightly to themselves - though most of them were trying to conceal this concern. The three Black's walked through the crowd of Death Eaters, and stopped directly across from Eileen Prince and Severus Snape.

Eileen Prince had her hands clapped firmly on Severus's shoulders, and he could see her lips moving as though she were muttering something to her son. Even Wilfred Rosier was giving off a more protective air than he usually was.

_What in the bloody hell is going on?_

His question was answered almost instantly.

The Dark Lord stood from his seat and strode across the room, a vicious smile on his face. Regulus followed his line of sight - he was walking directly towards the Selwyn's. Constance Selwyn was practically shaking in fear, and Regulus felt quite bad for the girl.

"Well, well, well," the Dark Lord drawled, and the cold hatred of his voice sent a chill towards Regulus. "What did I say about completing my task?"

"We - we would suffer, my lord," Rose Selwyn stuttered - she had never felt so small.

"Mmmm, yes, I did say that, didn't I? Well, _have_ you succeeded?" It was obvious to Regulus that the Dark Lord knew the answer, but he just wanted to hear the Selwyn's say it.

"N-no, my lord," Hamish Selwyn replied - he was white as a ghost and his eyes were wide with fear.

The Dark Lord nodded, and he let out an irritated sigh. Regulus wondered briefly what task the Selwyn's had been given, and how much of a let down it was to the Dark Lord that they had failed.

"Well," the Dark Lord transferred his gaze from Rose and Hamish to their only daughter, Constance. She looked utterly terrified, though Regulus could tell that she was trying not to. He looked back up at the older Selwyn's. "I do pride myself on keeping my promises."

Everyone in the room seemed to tense, and it seemed that all of the adults were thinking the same thing; _who was going to die in place of whoever they had been sent to kill?_

The Dark Lord took a deep breath and drew his wand, looking squarely into the eyes of Rose and Hamish Selwyn. "It's quite a shame, really, isn't it? This new generation of followers is so promising..." he tsked and reached out a hand, gripping Constance Selywn's upper arm firmly.

The entire room held their breath, and Walburga reached out to grip her son's shoulder firmly - protectively. Several other parents 'round the room did the same.

"No, my lord, please," begged Rose Selwyn, keeping an unyielding grip on Constance's shoulders. "Please,"

"I'm not much for begging, Rose," he said in a cold tone of voice.

He pulled Constance away from her parents's grip. Rose Selwyn let out a strangled cry and leaned forward, grappling desperately for her daughter. Regulus didn't think that he had ever seen someone look more terrified.

"My lord... my lord, please," Rose Selwyn sounded as though someone were pressing against her windpipe - all of her words were coming out in desperate wheezes.

The Dark Lord pulled Constance Selwyn into the middle of the circle and turned her so she was facing her parents. From where Regulus was standing, he could see the tears that were flooding his classmate's eyes. He watched as the Dark Lord brought his wand towards the girl's face and ran the tip of it against her jaw, and Rose Selwyn let out another cry.

Regulus thought he might be sick.

"My lord, please, not her. Kill me, my lord," Hamish Selwyn said, though his voice was much more composed than his wife's.

The Dark Lord cocked his head, and a depraved smile. "Who said I was going to kill anyone?"

Rose and Hamish both seemed to relax ever-so-slightly at this, but they were still looking at their daughter in concern. The Dark Lord leaned down so that he was speaking directly into Constance's ear, though everyone in the room could still hear.

"Mummy and daddy really messed up, didn't they?" he said softly.

Regulus watched Constance's entire body go rigid.

The Dark Lord stood up straight and dragged the tip of his wand across her cheek, into her hair, and stopped it directly in the middle of her head. He looked up and met the eyes of her parents - Regulus could see an evil glint in his eye, and he noticed that they were far more red-toned than normal.

" _Crucio_ ," he whispered, just above a breath.

Constance Selwyn's gut-wrenching screams filled the room.

Regulus couldn't watch.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head down, fighting the urge to reach up and cover his ears. He felt his father's hand push his head back up so that his face was towards the Dark Lord, but he kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His stomach was churning, his hands shaking, and his knees felt like they were about to give out.

He was doing everything he could to not be sick.

He wanted to tell the Dark Lord to stop, but he knew that he would be killed within seconds.

He just wanted to go home and curl up in his bed and forget that this ever happened.

He wished that his mother had never woken him up.

The screams that were still emanating from his Constance Selwyn reminded him of Sirius.

He should have listened to Sirius.

He _really_ should have listened to Sirius.

No.

No, he shouldn't have listened to Sirius.

If he had listened to Sirius, it might be _him_ in Constance's place right now.

He had done what was best by not listening to Sirius.

So why did he feel like he hadn't?

Constance stopped screaming, and Regulus stopped thinking. He couldn't keep thinking like that. He truly had done what was best by following his parents wishes. He was _going_ to work for the Dark Lord, he was _going_ to become a loyal Death Eater, and he was _going_ to make his parents proud.

It was the only thing that he was truly good for.

Regulus heard shuffling, and he felt that it was safe to open his eyes. When he did, it took him a few seconds to adjust to the brightness of the room; he blinked rapidly, furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes until he could see clearly.

Rose Selwyn was on her knees next to the form of her daughter, who was laying down and staring at the ceiling blankly. Regulus could see tear tracks across the girl's cheeks, and her entire body seemed to be trembling.

Regulus was reminded of Sirius yet again. Only this time, he was seeing the scene from a different angle. He could see himself in Rose Selwyn, Sirius Black in Constance, and Orion Black in the Dark Lord. It was almost a perfectly mirrored image.

The Dark Lord paced 'round the two forms on the ground, clucking his tongue in disapproval. He stopped directly behind Rose and rested a hand on her shoulder, leaning down so he was speaking straight to Rose.

"Make another mistake, and your little girl won't be so lucky," and he straightened his spine.

The room was silent. No one dared to speak.

Walburga still had a hand clasped on Regulus's shoulder, though her grip was less tight. The Dark Lord looked around the room with an unreadable expression on his face.

His eyes grazed the people that surrounded him, and they seemed to be turning back to their normal shade of black. He took a deep breath and slid his wand into the pocket of his robes, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Well, I'm sure that we have all had quite enough. Leave. All of you," and he strode out of the parlor.

No one even hesitated.

Eileen Prince and Severus Snape were the first to apparate away, followed by Wilfred and Evan Rosier, Lucius and Helena Malfoy - accompanied by Narcissa, who was to be marrying Lucius at the end of August - and then the Black's.

Orion, Walburga, and Regulus dropped onto the front stoop, and they didn't waste any time. Orion was the first inside, followed by Regulus - who was being pushed by Walburga. As soon as the front door closed, Orion and Walburga headed straight for the sitting room.

Regulus could tell by the way that the front porch had been illuminated that it was past sunrise. He stood in the cold entrance hallway, shivering and thinking about what he had seen. He thought about the sound of the screams that had filed the parlor of Lestrange Manor. The churning in his stomach resumed at the mere thought, and he darted up the stairs.

He desperately wanted to at least make it to his room before-

It was too late.

As soon as he had stepped onto the landing that held both of the brothers's bedroom doors, Regulus was sick.

He keeled over and placed his palms on the hardwood floor, wincing at the pain that shot up both of his legs from the pressure at which his knees hit the wood. He could see his curly black hair from the corners of his eyes, and his vision had started to go blurry.

When he was finished being sick, he rolled onto his side and let his hair fall over his eyes, obscuring his vision. He lay there, breathless, clutching his stomach and trying to suppress the urge to vomit again. He heard a bedroom door open through the ringing that had begun in his ears.

"It's five in the morning, can you shut- _MERLIN_! What the bloody hell is going on?!" Sirius shouted, and he rushed over to Regulus.

Regulus felt his body being pulled to the side - felt his back pressing against the cold hardwood floors - but he didn't have the energy to protest. He felt someone pushing the hair off of his sweaty forehead, and he found that his eyes were becoming more focused.

"Merlin, Reg, what happened to you?" Sirius asked gently, looking at his brother in concern.

Regulus didn't speak. He couldn't. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth again, he would just be ill. So, he stayed silent.

"Reg?" Sirius's voice was soft, like it was when they were children and Regulus would get hurt.

Regulus tried to speak, but he choked on the lump that had risen in his throat, and no words came out. Sirius glanced at the state of his brother, and he pressed the back of his hand softly on Regulus's forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he muttered.

The two brothers were silent for minutes on end - Regulus steadied his breathing and composed himself, and Sirius watched with perturbed eyes. Finally, when Regulus felt he was able to, he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest.

It was at this moment that Sirius realized his little brother was wearing his traveling cloak and a pair of shoes. He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Where are you off to? It's too early to go anywhere?"

"I was - er-" Regulus croaked; his voice was hoarse and his throat felt raw. "I was gonna ask mother and father if we could go get school supplies today. But then I - er - got sick." Regulus expected to feel bad about lying to his brother, but he... _didn't_. He knew that if Walburga and Orion - or, Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord - found out, both of the boys would be in danger. This, he accounted, was the reason that lying to Sirius in that moment didn't feel terrible; it was a necessary evil to keep them both safe.

Sirius nodded slowly. "Well, can't really get school supplies in your state," he stood up and extended a hand. "Come on. Up you go."

Regulus eyed Sirius's hand warily, but he took it nonetheless. Sirius pulled his brother up, and the rapid change of elevation caused Regulus's head to spin. He stumbled slightly, and Sirius gripped his upper arms to steady him. "Woah, steady there."

It took a few seconds before his head finally stopped spinning, but it did.

"Come on," Sirius prompted his brother towards Regulus's bedroom door, and he turned back to the pile of sick that was on the landing. "Kreacher!" The elf appeared with a _crack!_ "Clean this up, elf."

"Don't talk to him like that," Regulus said as firmly as he could, and Sirius smirked.

Sirius led Regulus over to his bed and helped him remove his traveling cloak and shoes. Once Regulus had laid down in his bed - back in just his pyjamas - Sirius tucked him in and sat on the edge.

"Go to sleep, you dolt, you'll feel better," and through his hazy eyes, Regulus could see the small smile curling the corners of Sirius's mouth.

"Yes mum," Regulus said sarcastically, and Sirius let out a stifled chuckle.

In that moment, Regulus realized just how much he had missed his older brother.


	21. The Wedding at Malfoy Manor

It was the morning of 26 August, 1973.

Regulus was checking himself in the mirror, smoothing down the front of his black dress robes. His hair had been cut by his mother to prepare for the wedding, so it was back to the normal length that Walburga Black considered _presentable_. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look better.

With a deep sigh, he gave up and let his hands drop to his sides. Despite his sour mood when it came to having to wake up early and get dressed into uncomfortable clothes, Regulus was ecstatic to be able to leave the house.

However, he was a little disappointed that Sirius wasn't coming. Walburga and Orion had resumed their normal task of ignoring his presence at all, and so they hadn't mentioned a word of the wedding to him. For this reason, Sirius was staying behind.

Sirius and Regulus had been on civil terms since the day that Regulus had been sick on the landing. They weren't exactly _close_ again, and they didn't go out of their way to talk or hang out, but they had waved to one another on the landing once, which was much more than could be said about before. Although, it did seem like Sirius was trying to avoid the topic of that day altogether.

When Regulus had awoken mid-afternoon, Sirius was gone. In fact, there was no trace that he had been there at all. If Regulus didn't know any better, he might think it had been a sort of stress-induced fever dream. But, they were on ok-terms now, so it couldn't have been a dream.

Regulus still longed to be able to walk over to his brother's room and just hang out with him like they did when they were younger, but he knew that - realistically speaking - that would probably never happen again.

" _REGULUS_! REGULUS GET DOWN HERE, WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!" Walburga shrieked from downstairs, and Regulus took a deep breath.

He strode out of his room and closed his door behind himself. When he had turned back around to continue to the staircase, he noticed Sirius leaning in his door frame, staring at Regulus in amusement.

"Look at the ickle posh boy," Sirius teased, and Regulus felt his cheeks burn red. Sirius smirked and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not gonna be sick again, are you?"

"No!" Regulus said defensively, crossing his arms and staring back at his brother.

"Where are you off to, anyways? Special trip to a posh party with mummy and daddy?"

Regulus furrowed his brow in confusion. "It's Lucius and Narcissa's wedding. Didn't you know?"

Sirius was silent a moment, and Regulus stood quite awkwardly in the doorway. "REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK, DO _NOT_ MAKE ME COME UP THERE!" Walburga roared from downstairs, and both brothers went stiff.

Sirius stood up straight and sniffed, raising his chin and narrowing his eyes at Regulus. "Have fun at your stupid little party, you stupid little brat," and he slammed his bedroom door closed.

Regulus stood still on the landing for a few seconds in shocked silence; what on earth just happened? Regulus and Sirius had been getting along! And then one mention of the wedding, and everything seemed to go downhill.

Regulus walked down the stairs at a swift pace, not wanting to anger his mother. He pushed the thoughts of his brother to the back of his mind - he was determined to have a good day away from Number 12.

Malfoy Manor was absolutely beautiful.

There were elegant white peacocks striding 'round the garden, and there was white tinsel woven through the back rests of the benches that lined the perfectly cared-for lawn. There were bushes of white roses surrounding the wedding, and there were white flower petals strewn everywhere. There were vines with small white flowers that wove its way up and around the wedding arch in the front, and it was giving off a lovely floral scent.

Regulus looked at the small white paper birds that were fluttering their wings and flying overhead in awe. The sun was beaming down on the garden, and there was a large crowd of people who were all wandering around carrying small cups full of various drinks.

Regulus watched as a small house elf wearing what looked like a clean white pillowcase rushed past him with a plate of hors d'oeuvres, and he smiled at the tiny creature. Walburga and Orion began walking to a group of adults whom Regulus vaguely recognized from meetings with the Dark Lord, and he stood his ground.

"Ah, hello, cousin," a shrill voice cooed, and Regulus turned 'round to find that his cousin Bellatrix was smiling down at him with a sort of insanity about her face.

"Hi Bella," Regulus replied.

Bellatrix looked around, the sunlight glinting in her dark eyes. "Cissy's wedding is quite pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it's great."

Bellatrix gave Regulus a psychotic smile, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I just wanted to tell you, Regulus, that I am very proud of you. You have certainly become what a Black _should_ be, unlike your _brother_. I can not wait to see the things that you will do for the Dark Lord, Regulus. I am quite excited."

Regulus looked at his older cousin uncomfortably. "Yeah - er - thanks. I will. Do good things for him, I mean."

"You want to become a loyal follower of his?" Regulus could tell that the question was a test, especially considering the fact that he could see the very bottom of Bellatrix's Dark Mark peaking out from under the lacy sleeve of her dark green gown.

"More than anything."

Satisfied with the answer, her smile turned to one of pleasure and she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. Without another word, she strode away towards the same crowd as his parents - her wild curly hair was bouncing with every step that she took.

Regulus stood awkwardly a few feet away from everyone else, glancing around and taking in all of his surroundings.

"Is you be needing anything, sir?" a tiny voice squeaked, and Regulus looked down in surprise.

There was a very little house elf standing in front of him - the tiniest house elf he had ever seen. The elf had a clean white pillowcase, similar to the one the elf that he had seen previously was wearing, and great big ears that must be the same size as their head. They were wringing their hands and flapping their ears nervously, similar to how Kreacher often did.

Regulus smiled and kneeled down, pressing one knee into the grass, and looking at the small elf from a much closer perspective. "Hullo," he said.

"Hi!" the elf replied, and a smile came over their face.

"What's your name?"

"I is Popsy, sir,"

"Hullo Popsy, I'm Regulus," he held out a hand, and she gripped his pointer finger with both of her petite hands, shaking it happily.

"Hello Mr. Regulus, sir! It is be being nice to meet you! Is you be wanting any food or drinks, sir?"

"No thank you, Popsy, I'm ok for right now." He withdrew his hand from the elf and rested his elbow on his leg. "Do you work for the Malfoy's?"

"Yes Mr. Regulus sir, I is being a house elf for Master Lucius and Mistress Helena."

"Do you like working for them? Are they nice?" Regulus was actually quite curious - were the Malfoy's as kind to their house elves as Regulus was to Kreacher?

"Oh yes, Mr. Regulus, Master and Mistress is being good Masters."

"Do you work with many other house elves, or are you the only one?"

"Popsy is not being the only one, sir, Master and Mistress have many others."

Regulus nodded. It made quite a lot of sense that the Malfoy's would have multiple house elves, considering the size of their house.

Regulus smiled. "That's cool."

Before he could say anything else, a long dark shadow was suddenly cast across the two of them. Regulus looked up and found the greasy-haired Severus Snape was staring down at the two of them, a deep scowl etched into the lines of his very pale face. He looked Regulus over for a few brief seconds, and then turned to Popsy.

"Elf, get me a drink." He said in a cold and hard tone of voice.

"Popsy will get you a drink, sir! What is you be wanting?" the small elf squeaked.

Snape's scowl deepened and intensified. "I don't care. Just get me a bloody drink!"

"Yes sir," and the elf scampered away.

Regulus stood up and brushed off the knee of his pants, glaring at Severus. "Don't talk to her like that, she was trying to be polite," he growled.

A smirk quirked the corner of his mouth, and he eyed Regulus up and down. "Awful defensive over a stupid little house elf, aren't we, Regulus?"

"She's not stupid, she's just _doing her bloody job_."

Severus shrugged. "Wizards aren't meant to make friends with house elves."

"Who says that?" Regulus raised a challenging eyebrow.

Severus shrugged again. "The basic laws and differences between wizards and house elves. It's like being friends with a mudblood; _vile_."

Regulus's brows knit together. "I thought you were friends with Lily Evans? _She's_ a mudblood."

Severus turned a deep shade of scarlet, and Regulus could see his fists trembling with anger. " _Don't_ call her that."

Regulus smirked. "Awful defensive over a stupid little mudblood, aren't we, Severus?" his tone was one of mockery, and he could see Severus Snape's eye twitch.

At this moment, Popsy returned with Snape's drink. Severus snatched it from the small tray that the elf was carrying, and walked away without another word. Regulus rolled his eyes and turned to Popsy, who was hugging the silver tray to her chest. "Thank you, Popsy. I'm sorry he was so rude," he glowered in the direction that Severus had walked.

"Popsy is be thanking you, sir!" The tiny elf gave Regulus a smile, and then she scampered towards the crowd to offer drinks to the other guests.

The ceremony started shortly after that.

Regulus, Walburga, and Orion were sitting in the middle row of the left side. Regulus was sitting on the side of the bench closest to the small aisle, and Orion was on the direct other side.

Regulus watched the bridesmaids - Bellatrix Lestrange and Gillian Fairman - walk down the aisle on the arms of the groomsmen - Rudolphus Lestrange and Corban Yaxley. They all took their places on either side of the wedding arch where Lucius Malfoy was standing, awaiting his bride.

Then, she came out.

Narcissa Black looked absolutely stunning. Her long white-blonde hair had been twisted in a plait that extended across the front of her head, and was tied in the back into a small bun. She had on a long solid white dress with puffed sleeves that cuffed 'round her wrists. There was a layer of white lace that covered the dress from her waist up, and the dress flowed freely from the waist down. The pièce de résistance of her look, however, was the veil. It had been pinned into her hair, and flowed in a very thin, silky curtain 'round her face and down to the end of her dress.

Several people gasped at the sight of her, and Regulus saw Cygnus Black - her father - smiling with her on his arm.

He passed her off to Lucius at the arch, and the wedding ceremony commenced. It was quite beautiful, and by the end, several tears had been shed by people in the crowd.

The reception was just as elegant.

There were tables neatly place throughout the ballroom of Malfoy Manor. All of them were circular and had exactly 6 chairs that surrounded them. In the center of every single table, there was a vase of white roses and garlands that surrounded them.

Regulus was sat at a table with multiple people that he recognized. Evan Rosier, Theodore Travers, Augustus Rookwood, Mason Avery, and - much to his dismay - Severus Snape.

Evan, Theodore, Augustus, and Mason were all deep in conversation, but Regulus and Severus didn't take part. Severus was glowering quite intently at Regulus, and Regulus was staring very hard at his plate of food.

Regulus was trying to keep his attention anywhere else but the people surrounding himself, and so he found his mind wandering. After many loops and strides through the thoughts and memories in his head, he ended up on the topic of Sirius. He thought of what Sirius had said to him earlier that day, and the slight sting that had come with the original words came back - it was like a ghost of a feeling that came along with the ghost of the memory in his mind. He found himself getting quite sad over it, and was trying very hard to distract himself.

Suddenly, a cold hand was placed on Regulus's shoulder, and the other boys at the table all turned their attention to him. He turned 'round in his seat and found himself face to face with Narcissa.

"Hello, Regulus. Enjoying the wedding?" she asked, staring down at him with her bright blue eyes.

"Hi, Narcissa. Yeah, it's great. You look really pretty." he responded - he noticed that she had let down the bun on the back of her head so that the rest of her hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and she had removed the veil.

"Thank you, Regulus. That's very kind of you," she glanced at the other boys that were sat at the table, and a slight grimace came over her face. "I'm sorry that we had to sit you at this table, but Lucius thought it best that you sat with people around your own age. And since Sirius _obviously_ wouldn't be coming, there weren't many other options."

"Oh, don't worry about it, it's ok. I know that Sirius - er - I knew he wouldn't be coming, so I sort of expected to be sat by people my own age." His voice broke ever so slightly at the mention of Sirius - mostly due to the memories that he had been reliving of their earlier words to one another - and he just hoped that none of them would notice.

Narcissa noticed.

She furrowed her brow, though barely any wrinkles appeared between them on her young face. She glanced once more at the other boys, and then squeezed his shoulder. "Come along," and she let go.

Regulus watched her take a step away from the table and gesture for him to follow her. He glanced at the table - all of the boys were glaring at him - and he stood up hesitantly.

Narcissa led him through the tables and people standing - several small house elves were weaving 'round their legs. She led him out of the doors of the ballroom, down a dark and empty corridor, and out a large pair of glass doors into the garden.

The wedding had already been cleaned up, and all that remained were the flower petals, small bits of tinsel scattered across the grass that glinted in the moonlight, and a few white paper birds still flitting and fluttering through the air. Narcissa walked clear across the grassy open area, and Regulus noticed that they were headed towards a large archway made completely of green hedge; they were headed into the flower garden.

It smelled wonderful. In the darkness, Regulus could only see faint colors, but he could tell just by the way that the moonlight was reflecting across some of the petals that the flowers must look absolutely marvelous in the daytime. The pair walked along the cobblestone path, around a large fountain, and to a small bench.

Narcissa was the first to sit, dusting the bench off lightly with her hand first and then flattening the front of her dress. She looked at Regulus, who was standing awkwardly to the side, and patted the bench beside herself.

He walked over and sat down, looking curiously at Narcissa - the two of them had gone to school together for an entire year, and they had only had one real conversation. What did Narcissa want to say to him?

She must have felt his curiosity, because she gave him a reassuring smile. Regulus smiled back, though he suspected that his smile must be much less sure and a lot more awkward. The smile on her face faded, and she sighed.

"Regulus," she began, adjusting herself on the bench so that her knees were pointed towards him, and her torso was fully facing him. "I know how you must feel about Sirius. Trust me, I know. I-" she stopped, trying to piece together the words that she needed to use to say what she wanted to say. She sighed again. "I felt the same way with Andromeda."

Regulus looked at Narcissa in surprise. Regulus hadn't heard anyone even _mention_ Andromeda within the family since she had been disowned - let alone _Narcissa_. She felt his shock and surprise, and she gave him a sad smile.

"I know what it feels like to wonder. Why couldn't they have just stuck with the family views and beliefs and ideals? Why couldn't they have stuck around? Why did I have to lose them? Trust me, sweetheart, I know."

Regulus was silent a moment. "I just miss him." he finally said - something about the way Narcissa was speaking, the genuine tone of her voice, it made him feel like he could say anything to her.

"I know. I miss Andromeda sometimes, too. But, you have to know, Regulus, there's a reason that they aren't in the family anymore. You have to _trust_ that there's a reason."

"Sirius hasn't been disowned, he's still in the family," Regulus said quickly. He _really_ didn't want to believe that his brother had been completely removed. Not yet.

Narcissa pondered this for a moment. "Yes, not yet."

The two were silent. However, it wasn't the type of silence that made one uncomfortable. It was the type of silence in which millions of words were being shared between two people, millions of unsaid words that one didn't know just how to say.

"I just... I feel like..." Regulus choked on the words, and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "I just miss him so much."

Narcissa reached out a comforting hand and rubbed Regulus's spine gently, giving him a smile. "I know, Reg. I know."

Regulus took a few minutes to compose himself, and Narcissa rubbed his back the whole time, trying to comfort her young cousin. When Regulus had successfully stopped the tears and wiped his cheeks roughly with the backs of his hands, Narcissa spoke.

"It gets better, Regulus. I promise, it _will_ get better. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, perhaps not even next year, but it _will_."

Regulus nodded his head, looking at Narcissa with sad eyes. "I know." But he didn't know. Regulus wasn't sure if the hole in his chest would ever be filled again.

She withdrew her hand and straightened her posture. "But, like I said, you just have to trust that there's a reason. Once I realized that - realized that Andromeda truly _did_ give the family a reason to disown her - it got better. You just have to trust the judgement of your mother and father, and it will be a lot easier to cope with the loss."

She stood from the bench and dusted off the back of her dress. "Come along, Regulus. Wouldn't want anyone noticing that we're gone, would we?" she extended a hand to help him off the bench, and he took it graciously.

Before Narcissa could withdraw her hand and turn around, Regulus had taken action. He pulled his hand out of hers and wrapped his arms tightly 'round her waist, pressing his head against her torso. Her body went quite tense at first, but she eventually relaxed and melted into the hug, wrapped her arms around the much smaller boy.

"Thank you," he muttered, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and taking in the warmth and comfort that Narcissa's hug was giving him.

"You're welcome, Regulus." she replied softly.

They both stood in the garden for minutes on end, enjoying the comfort that the other was bringing them. In that moment, Narcissa and Regulus were nothing but two people who shared the same pain of losing their siblings, finding consolation in one another's similar pain. It was as though, in this moment in time, their arms were the only things keeping each other together.

"Narcissa?" a voice carried across the grounds of the garden. "Are you out here?"

Narcissa and Regulus withdrew their arms from one another, and they collectively decided to ignore the tear tracks that stained both of their pale, sharp faces. They walked back around the fountain in silence, and it was only when they were in the large hedge archway that Narcissa reached out and grabbed Regulus's arm to stop him.

"If you ever want to speak about it, you can always owl me, just so you know," she gave him a comforting smile.

He smiled back. "I will."

She glanced at Lucius, who was standing in the doorway that led out to the garden, and back to Regulus. "We probably shouldn't mention this little talk to anyone. Don't need the family knowing that we both have soft spots for the disowned, do we?"

Regulus shook his head. "Definitely not."

They gave each other one last smile, and then turned back and returned to the wedding.

Sirius Black lay on his bed in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He had been laying there for hours on end, just staring at the canopy above his bed.

He really _hadn't_ known about the wedding. Of course, he knew that Narcissa and Lucius were to be married at _some point_ , but not today. There was a pang in his heart when he thought about the fact that he simply hadn't been invited.

Sure, he was practically disowned by now, but he thought that at least _Narcissa_ might've wanted him there. Narcissa and Sirius had been quite close when they were both younger - whenever there were family events, it was _always_ Narcissa, Andromeda, Sirius, and Regulus; it was like they were in their own little world when they were together.

Of course, it was quite ironic that two of those four were now no longer considered members of the Black family, but that didn't take away from the good memories. At least, not for _him_.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He truly couldn't express how much he wanted to go back to that little, carefree world.


	22. Back

Regulus woke up on the morning of 1 September feeling more ready than ever to return to Hogwarts. After feeling what it was like to spend almost an entire year away from the depressing house that was Number 12, Regulus was quite ready to get out again. Of course, he did like being close to Kreacher and to his parents - and being close to the Dark Lord - but that didn't stop him from missing Hogwarts terribly.

So, he was up before dawn.

He sat in his bed for a few hours, giddily reading through his year 2 spell book and practicing the wand movements. When the sun had peaked over the horizon outside, Regulus ripped open the curtains and sat in the little nook before his window. Kreacher appeared and asked what Regulus wanted for breakfast, and came back thirty minutes later with a steaming plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and french toast that was drenched in syrup and garnished with bits of sliced banana and strawberries.

He ate it hungrily, having a chat with Kreacher about how excited he was to go back to Hogwarts. When he heard his parents shuffling downstairs, he decided it was time to begin getting changed.

He had changed into his white oxford, black trousers, and shoes when Walburga called for him from downstairs.

He rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time, until he reached the small entrance hallway where his mother was standing. "Tell your brother that we will be leaving soon. I will have Kreacher bring down both of your things," and she waved a dismissive hand.

Regulus nodded. "Yes mother," and he rushed back up the stairs.

When he reached the landing, he paused. He and Sirius, yet again, hadn't spoken since the day of the wedding. So, Regulus was a little nervous to talk to Sirius - would he snap at him again? Though, he knew that if he didn't, their mother would get angry at them both. So, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

No answer came.

He knocked again.

Yet again, no answer.

Regulus sighed - this was how it _always_ started. Sirius _always_ ignored his knocks.

"Sirius," he called, annoyance clear in his tone. "Sirius, mother says we're leaving soon."

Still no answer.

"Sirius?"

Nothing.

Regulus furrowed his brow. Was Sirius still asleep? Was he just _choosing_ to ignore Regulus?

"Sirius? If you don't answer the door, I'm coming in."

Absolutely nothing.

Regulus felt suspicion and worry creeping up in him - if he were a dog, he suspected that his hackles would be raised. He glanced 'round the landing nervously, as though he suspected Sirius to pop out of no where. When he didn't, Regulus took another deep breath and reached out a trembling hand.

Sirius's room was just as messy as it had been the following year during Christmas break. There were clothes and textbooks and parchment and chocolate frog cards covering the floor, and he had added to the posters that absolutely wallpapered his room. Regulus glanced around - Sirius was no where to be seen.

_Where is he?_

Regulus let out a sigh and turned to leave - perhaps Sirius was in the kitchen? However, he stopped when he noticed the Gryffindor tie that was draped over Sirius's desk chair.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped over the clutter to the desk. He gripped the Gryffindor tie and ran the material through his fingers, admiring the red and gold stripes. He looked at the mirror in the corner of the room, and walked over to it.

He glanced behind himself quickly, just to be sure that Sirius wasn't going to barge in and start shooting him with millions of questions. _What the bloody hell are you doing in my room? Why are you holding my tie? Why are you trying on my tie, you prat?_

Regulus thought this was a bad idea.

But, ever since they were little, Regulus and Sirius Black had been suckers for bad ideas.

So, he popped the collar of his oxford and snaked the gold and red Gryffindor tie 'round his neck. When he had flattened his collar and tied the tie quite loosely, he admired himself in the mirror.

He did think that the colors rather matched his complexion, though he still thought that he looked better in dark green. Though, the Gryffindor tie wasn't _horrible_...

He adjusted the tie and let his shoulders droop, his black eyebrows knitting together. He sort of _liked_ the way the tie looked...

"What the bloody hell are you doing in my room?"

Regulus ripped the tie from 'round his neck as quickly as he could and spun around - he could feel his cheeks burn red. Sirius was standing in the door frame, staring at his brother with an unreadable expression. His shoulder-length hair had been half-tied up into a small bun, which had his wand sticking through it. He was wearing most of his uniform - shoes, trousers, button-down - and it appeared that he had just finished adjusting his vest when he had noticed Regulus in his room.

"I was - er - I was looking for you. Mother - uh - she - um - she said that were - uh - leaving soon," Regulus was stuttering his way through the sentence, and his cheeks were getting hotter and hotter by the second.

"Whatcha got there, Regulus?" Sirius pointed towards Regulus's hands, which were clutching the tie behind his back.

"Nothing," Regulus replied quickly - _too_ quickly.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and eyed Regulus carefully. Regulus took the opportunity to throw the Gryffindor tie to the ground, hoping desperately that Sirius hadn't noticed. He let his hands rest at his sides, though that felt awkward, so he crossed his arms, but that felt awkward, too, so he clasped them behind his back, but that felt just as off, so he rested them back at his sides and began drumming his fingers against his thighs nervously.

Sirius stepped over the threshold into his room and gestured towards the door. "Well, then feel free to _get the bloody hell out_."

Regulus hastened past him. When he was safely back on the landing, he turned around to face Sirius before he could slam the door shut. "Mother says we're leaving soon. Get ready," and he turned around and walked into his bedroom.

Once his door was safely closed, he pressed his back against it and splayed his palms across the dark wood at his sides. What the bloody hell had he just done? _Of course_ he didn't like the Gryffindor tie on himself, he couldn't! No, no he couldn't like the tie. The tie was _stupid_.

Kreacher appeared on the end of his bed. "Is Master Regulus's things be being ready to go?" Kreacher asked.

Regulus smiled and peeled himself from the door, walking towards his trunk. "Yes, Kreacher, it's all packed. Thank you."

"Master Regulus is most welcome," and Kreacher gripped the handle of Regulus's trunk and disappeared with a crack.

King's Cross station was buzzing with activity and excitement. Regulus glanced around, and he was overcome by a feeling of utter bliss; he was _finally_ going back to Hogwarts.

Walburga and Orion led Regulus and Sirius through the thick sea of witches, wizards, and muggles alike, all dropping their kids off for the beginning of the year. Regulus - when scanning the crowd looking for Barty - noticed Deacon Ackland.

He was trailing behind a rather tall, thin woman with coarse-looking blonde hair. She had sharp features, but not in the sharply beautiful and elegant look that the Black's features held, her features were more grotesque and skeletal looking. She was pulling Deacon along by the hair atop his head, her bony fingers weaving through the small looking boy's curly brown hair.

Regulus could see her mouth moving as if she were speaking, but he couldn't hear anything that was being said from where he stood. Regulus glanced at Sirius, who was looking intently for his friends.

When he turned back to say goodbye to his mother and father, it was to find that they had already disappeared - when, Regulus did not know. Sirius seemed to have noticed this too, for he went bounding off through the crowd, pushing his trolley in front of himself the entire time. With a sigh, Regulus redirected his cart towards the luggage compartment.

He arrived at the same time as Deacon and the scary looking woman - she truly did look _much_ more terrifying up close. She had a sunken look about her, and her pale skin was dotted with what appeared to be small spots of purple and red discoloration. Regulus didn't know what could've caused this, but considering that Deacon was a muggle-born, it was probably some obscure muggle illness that he had never heard of.

He tried his best to ignore the two of them, though this was becoming increasingly harder by the second. The woman was throwing insults and back-handed statements towards Deacon every few seconds, and the boy never seemed to say anything back. In fact, if Regulus didn't look up and see with his own eyes that Deacon was still there, he might have thought that the woman was talking to nothing but empty air. When Regulus looked at Deacon, he noticed a few very distinct differences.

First, Deacon had definitely grown taller. He wasn't quite at Regulus's height, but he must have been only an inch or two shorter. His curly brown hair had been cut very choppily, and had patches all over that were shorter than the rest. His skin seemed much more sallow, and his eyes had huge, deep, dark bags underneath them that had started to extend to his eyelids. To add to this, his eyes were bloodshot - it appeared that he hadn't slept in what must've been days. He looked worse than Regulus did when he had gone six consecutive days without rest the previous term when the Dark Lord had been entering his mind every night. He also looked much skinnier, and his cheekbones were more defined - he looked borderline malnourished.

Regulus furrowed his brow, and his eyes darted to the woman beside Deacon, who - at that moment - was talking about how much of a 'monster' and a 'freak' he was. Regulus didn't know why, but he just... he felt the urge to do... _something_. However, he knew that he realistically couldn't really do anything without getting himself into trouble with his parents, the other Slytherin's, and the Dark Lord.

"DEACON! I MISSED YOU!!!" a voice bellowed from across the platform, and Regulus, Deacon, and the woman all looked up.

Benjamin Stone and Francesco Anderson were running over to the boy, both grinning ear to ear. Deacon smiled, and his entire body relaxed from the relief of seeing his two best mates.

The woman wrinkled her nose as the two boys grabbed Deacon and pulled him into a group hug - Deacon could barely breathe with how tightly the other two were holding him, but he had still never felt more content in all his life.

Regulus took this opportunity to escape the scene, and he went off to go find Barty.

Francesco and Benji both released Deacon, absolutely _beaming_ at the boy. Suddenly, however, they noticed the state of their friend, and both furrowed their brows in concern. Francesco was the first to look towards the woman, who was still staring at them in disgust.

"Hi," Francesco said, extending a hand to the woman, but keeping a stone-cold expression on his face. "I'm Francesco, and that's Benji. And... you are?"

The woman sniffed and lifted her chin so that she was staring down her sharp nose at the boy before her. "Mrs. Ackland."

Francesco balled his other fist, and Benji could see his body practically shaking from anger.

"Well, _Mrs. Ackland_ , I have a few choice words for you-"

"NICE TO MEET YOU!" Benji shouted over Francesco, and he gripped his arm to drag him away. Deacon turned red, and he followed very closely behind the two boys.

"LIKE HOW YOU COULD WRITE THINGS LIKE THAT TO YOUR OWN SON YOU HORRID BIT-" Benji clapped a hand over Francesco's mouth, and he tugged all the harder on the boy.

Several heads had turned towards the exchange, and Mrs. Ackland stared malignantly at the three retreating boys. When they were a safe distance away, Benji released his hand from over Francesco's mouth, and Francesco sent a glare his way.

" _What_? Did you just want me to _let_ you call Deacon's mother a horrid bitch in front of _the entire bloody school_?"

"Yes." Francesco replied in a steady tone of voice.

Benji rolled his eyes, and he turned to Deacon. "How are you, Dea?"

Deacon shrugged his shoulders. "I'm ok. Summer wasn't that great, but at least I'm back now," he gave his two friends a genuine smile - the first genuine smile that he had given anyone since the last day of Hogwarts. "What about you two?" He turned to Francesco. "Where's _Clementine_?"

Francesco shrugged. "Broke up."

Deacon and Benji both gaped at him in shock, and he stared between the two of them, confused. "What? It's not like we were gonna get married." He threw his arms around the shoulders of his two best mates and led them towards the Hogwarts express. "Plenty of other fish in the sea, mates."

The feeling of Francesco's arm on the shoulder of Deacon Ackland sent a shiver down the smaller boy's spine, and he relished in the feeling - he didn't _ever_ want Francesco to let go. Over the summer, it had become easy to forget about the things that he felt towards Francesco, for he was able to focus on all of the problems that he faced with being home. However, now he was to be spending the next year with him, and he didn't know how he was going to ignore those feelings. He couldn't have these feelings. He was a boy, he wasn't _supposed_ to feel these things for other boys! _I'll just get over it. These aren't real feelings, he's just a really good friend to me_. _I can get over it_. Nevertheless, Deacon didn't complain a bit when Francesco kept his arm 'round him all the way to their compartment.

Remus Lupin was in the same boat.

Ever since the final full moon of their second year, Remus had felt a mixture of unusual feelings stirring inside of him whenever he thought of Sirius Black. He cherished every letter that the boy sent him, and he found himself thinking about Sirius almost every single waking minute of the day. But, Remus just told himself that these feelings were purely platonic, and that they had only been brought on because of the kind way that Sirius always took care of him.

However, he found himself with butterflies in his stomach when Sirius chose to sit beside _him_ on the express instead of James.

Regulus and Barty were in a compartment.

Regulus was telling Barty all about his summer (specifically leaving out the details of what had happened to Constance Selwyn; he knew that there was little chance he could speak about it without being sick all over again. He also left out anything that had to do with Sirius, including his conversation with Narcissa at the wedding). When Barty was telling Regulus about _his_ summer, Regulus felt a sensation of sympathy run through him.

"So you didn't talk to your dad _at all_?" he asked when the boy was finished recounting his story.

Barty licked his lips - Regulus had been best mates with him long enough to know that that was a stress-induced tick - and shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. Talked to mum a lot though, _she_ doesn't think that I'm any less of her son just because I'm a Slytherin. I love my mum."

Regulus smiled. "That's good."

Barty nodded his head. "Yeah. Dad's just a prat, _all_ he cares about is his stupid job at the ministry. That's why he thinks it's so bad I'm Slytherin, he thinks that it's gonna make everyone assume I'm working for you-know-who. Which, of course, _I want to_ , but dad doesn't know that."

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, I imagine having a son in Slytherin wouldn't be a very reputable thing, especially for someone gunning for minister."

"Yeah, he hates it. Thinks I'm ruining his chance. Says I have been since I was young, always tells me that he would probably already _be_ minister if he hadn't had a kid."

Regulus gave Barty a sympathetic look. "I'm really sorry, Barty. That's awful."

"It's-" but Regulus would never know what it was, for at that moment, their compartment door was swung open quite violently.

They both looked up in surprise, and in walked Severus Snape. He wore a deep scowl, and his eyes flickered to Barty for the shortest of moments before returning to Regulus.

"Black. I need to speak to you," he said in a cold, flat voice.

Regulus straightened his posture and grimaced at Severus, looking the boy up and down. His robes were quite old and tattered looking, and they were _much_ too short for him - they didn't even cover his ankles all the way.

"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Barty." Severus was silent a moment. "Get on with it, _Snape_ , I don't have all of the time in the world for filthy half-bloods like _you_." Regulus saw Severus's shoulders tense, as he smirked to himself knowing that he had successfully gotten to him.

Severus let out a very irritated sigh, and he sat stiffly on the bench beside Barty. "Fine. I know you're trying to learn Occlumency, and I know why."

It was Severus's turn to smirk, for he had noticed the change in cockiness that Regulus Black held almost instantly. His shoulders tensed, and he subconsciously began pulling at a thread in the hem of his robe sleeve.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Because it seems to me, Regulus Black, that there is a reason that you were... not sleeping, last year." Regulus could feel it - Severus Snape was actively searching through his thoughts.

Regulus did everything he could to suppress every single thought that he absolutely could not have Severus Snape knowing about.

Truth be told, Severus _didn't_ know exactly why Regulus was trying to learn Occlumency. At the wedding, he had been searching through the boy's thoughts for but a second before Narcissa showed up and whisked him away. In that second, he had seen the book. _The Art of Occlumency_. He didn't even really _know_ if Regulus was trying to learn it until this moment, just knew that he had taken interest in that book. So, to keep up his lie, he was actively searching through the thoughts of Regulus Black, to try to figure out the whole story. Whatever it was, it had something to do with a lack of sleep that Regulus was experiencing the following term - he had seen it flash through the boy's mind.

"So, how long have you been able to do it?" Regulus asked - Severus pulled out of his mind in shock.

"Pardon?"

Regulus had returned to his cocky posture and expression, and was staring regally at Severus with a raised chin. "The Legilimency. I can feel it. So, _how long_?"

"After the meeting with the Dark Lord - the one where you _embarrassed me_ -"

Regulus clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I didn't embarrass you, _dear Severus_ , you embarrassed yourself. Honestly, a _first year_ with more knowledge than _you_? You _should_ have felt embarrassed."

Severus could feel his cheeks burning, and his eyes turned into fiery slits of anger. " _After the meeting_ , I did my research. I mastered the skill of Occlumency, and became quite good at Legilimency in the process."

"Why are you telling me this? I don't care about your stupid skills."

"You're Sirius Black's brother."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? What gave it away?"

Severus closed his eyes and counted to ten in his mind, trying to calm himself down. Regulus Black was _absolutely insufferable_. "I need you to do something for me."

"No."

Severus opened his eyes again, and he met eyes with Regulus. "I wouldn't be so quick to say no, Regulus Black. How do you think the Dark Lord would feel to know that you are trying to learn Occlumency? Or, better yet, how do you think your _dear brother_ and his friends would react to the discovery that Sirius Black's ickle baby brother is a Death Eater in training?"

"Wouldn't really be able to tell them that without giving yourself away, now would you?"

Severus was quiet a moment, so Regulus took his opportunity. He stood up, adjusted his robes, straightened his spine, and stared down his nose at Severus. "I'm not scared of you, or your empty threats, Snape. _Leave_."

Severus stood up - he was a few inches taller than Regulus, but Regulus held his ground.

"Fine. Guess the Dark Lord will have to know about your interest in Occlumency, then, won't he?"

Regulus shrugged. "Guess so."

Severus shot the most intense glare that he had at Regulus, but the younger boy didn't falter. _Well_ , Severus thought, _he's definitely a Black_.

Severus sniffed and turned, waltzing out of the compartment. As soon as the door was closed, Regulus fell back onto the bench behind him and let out a breath that he had been holding to make himself appear more steady.

"Wow," Barty breathed, looking at Regulus in awe, "you're really good at that."

Regulus looked at him with furrowed brows. "What do you mean? Good at what?"

" _That._ Making people uncomfortable, or whatever you do. You did it with Evan Rosier in the boats last year, and now with Severus Snape? I don't know, it's just cool. You can be really scary."

Regulus nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

The platform at Hogsmeade station was packed with students the second the train had lurched to a halt.

Regulus and Barty exited the train, arms full of wrappers from all of the treats that they had bought from the trolley witch. They wandered around, pushing through the thick crowd, trying to find a rubbish bin. They finally found one that was pushed up against a lamp post towards the middle of the platform, and they emptied their arms into it.

Regulus dusted his hands on his brand new robes, and he glanced 'round the busy platform. His attention was immediately grabbed by the four third year Gryffindor boys, who were all shouting and laughing at one another. Regulus watched Sirius put his hands on either one of James Potter's shoulders and use him as leverage to begin jumping up and down - he noticed the look of adoration on Remus Lupin's face, and he was reminded of Deacon Ackland.

Remus Lupin.

Regulus widened his eyes, and it took quite a lot of personal strength to keep his jaw from dropping.

How could he have forgotten?!

Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and Regulus Black knew about it. He had just... _forgotten_. How could he have just forgotten?!

"Reg? Everything alright?" Barty asked, and he followed his best mate's gaze to the four boys.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Yup. Better get going, huh? Don't wanna be late for the feast," Regulus laughed nervously, trying to divert the attention away from Remus and the other boys.

Barty looked at Regulus skeptically. "Ok?"

The two boys followed the crowd of people towards the groups of carriages being pulled by seemingly nothing; Regulus and Barty had walked towards what could possibly be the worst group of them.

Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, and Sirius Black were all piling into one carriage, and Marlene McKinnon, Mary Macdonald, Lily Evans, and a third year Ravenclaw named Emmaline Vance had just finished getting into another. In the third carriage, Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, Benjamin Stone, and the Ravenclaw boy that Regulus recognized from his Herbology class as Emerson Reid, were settling in and laughing with one another. In the fourth and only available carriage, there sat a Hufflepuff third year girl named Dorcas Meadowes, and Clementine Bates.

Reluctantly, Barty and Regulus walked over to join them. It was a quiet ride, for neither of the pairs of friends wanted to talk in front of the other. The road was twisty, but it was a much more pleasant ride than the one back from Christmas break - Regulus had been quite scared that the carriage would slip on the snow and ice covered dirt, _especially_ considering the fact that he couldn't even _see_ what exactly was pulling the carriages.

However, the winding of the road and the uncomfort of the ride was suddenly made much better when the carriage broke through the cover of trees, and the dark silhouette of Hogwarts castle came into view. Regulus smiled.

He was finally back.


	23. OH BLOODY HELL!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: emetophobia (towards the beginning)

The sorting took much longer than it had the year before.

Not only were there almost twice as many nervous first years, but Regulus had been so distracted during his own sorting that the time had passed at double the speed. So, by the time it was over, Regulus was half-asleep from boredom. Slytherin had gained six new first years; three boys - Ben Ward, Elis Mills, and Anthony Matthews - and three girls - Lila Davidson, Ariella Graham, and Daniella May. During dinner, the girls naturally gravitated towards Phoebe Scott, who was the only one at the table close enough to their age for them to feel comfortable.

It was while Regulus was noticing this, that he also noticed another thing - a much bigger thing. Constance Selwyn was no where to be found. He glanced up and down the table, just to be sure that he wasn't somehow missing her. Sure enough, Constance Selwyn wasn't there.

"Hey, Phoebe," Regulus asked, leaning over the table. Phoebe Scott looked at Regulus in surprise - the two had only talked a handful of times in class the entire year that they had been classmates. She wasn't even entirely sure that he knew her name until now. "Where's Constance?"

Phoebe's expression changed to one of cold seriousness. "Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" Barty asked, leaning over the table next to Regulus.

"What happened? I don't know exactly, but I heard that it had to do with the Dark Lord. Apparently, he used the Cruciatus on her. She snapped. She's been in Mungo's ever since, in the Janus Thickey Ward."

Regulus was going to be sick.

He was sure that he was going to be sick.

Without further warning, Regulus stood up from the Slytherin table. The scraping of the bench on the stone floor caused almost every single pair of eyes in the Great Hall to turn towards him, including the four Gryffindor boys. He looked 'round at everyone, and he could feel the bile rising up in his throat.

"Reg?" Barty asked - the sound of Barty's voice seemed to carry throughout the entire hall, and Sirius furrowed his brow at the odd behavior of his younger brother.

Regulus's ears were ringing, blocking out any noise that tried to penetrate his mind.

Regulus moved out of the way of the bench, turned towards the doors of the Great Hall, and started running. He ran all the way down the long table of Slytherin's - who were all whispering to one another about _what on earth was going on with Regulus Black_ \- and out into the entrance hall. He made it just in time, too, for as soon as the giant doors closed behind him, he grabbed a pot that held a strange plant that was placed on one side of the doors and emptied his stomach into it.

"Mr. Black?" a voice broke through the sound of Regulus being sick, and he felt a cold hand rubbing his back. "Let it out, it's ok. Just let it out,"

The unknown person behind him brought Regulus some comfort, but it didn't stop him from being sick. When he was finished, he lowered the vomit-filled plant pot from his face and stood there for a few moments, his hands trembling, body shaking, eyes closed, and out of breath.

"Are you alright, Mr. Black?" and he was finally able to focus enough to realize who was behind him. He spun 'round, forcing the other person to drop their hand from his back, and he stared squarely into the eyes of Professor McGonagall.

He felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck, and he wiped his mouth nervously with the back of his hand. "Er - uh - I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't - I um - didn't feel good and didn't want to - er - get the floor dirty - I'm really sorry!" he shifted his weight nervously from one leg to the other, expecting Professor McGonagall to start yelling at him at any second.

She didn't. Instead, she looked at the pot that he had set on the ground in his surprise to see her there, and with a flick of her wand it was completely clean of Regulus's sick and moved back to its rightful place by the door. "It's ok, Mr. Black, not a problem. Are you feeling better? Shall I take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

Regulus shook his head rather vigorously. "No. I mean - uh - yes, yes I'm feeling much better. Dunno what came over me, must've eaten a bad - er - a bad strawberry, this morning, maybe. I'm ok,"

"Are you sure, Mr. Black? Trust me, I've been head of house for your brother for two years, I know all about the resilience that the Black family likes to put on. I can assure you, it will be no problem at all if you want to me to take you to Poppy. My main priority here is to be sure that _you_ are ok."

"Yes, Professor, I'm ok."

McGonagall nodded her head, though her expression did not falter from the one of sympathy that she was giving him. Finally, she took a step back and pulled open one of the ginormous doors leading into the Great Hall, stepping aside so that Regulus could walk through.

He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robes, being sure that he didn't give the appearance of having been sick, before stepping through the doors.

Everyone in the hall was back to chattering away, every single table having different conversations about topics that were no where near each other. Regulus walked back to his seat at the Slytherin table, and sat down on the bench beside Barty.

Barty looked over at him in concern. "Hey, are you ok? You look a little... _green_."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just needed some fresh air is all." Regulus responded, looking at his best mate and giving him a reassuring smile.

Suddenly, the food disappeared from the four long house tables, and Dumbledore stepped up to the golden podium in the front of the hall. He cleared his throat, and those who didn't realize that he was up there immediately gave him their full attention.

With a warm smile on his face and a deep sigh, Dumbledore leaned against the podium and brought his wand up to his throat. " _Sonorous_ ," he muttered, and his voice was magically amplified throughout the entirety of the Great Hall. "Welcome back to Hogwarts!" the old headmaster started, and three out of the four house tables broke out into applause - the Slytherin's stayed silent.

"Now, I do regret very deeply that the news that I must start with tonight is quite tragic. Over the summer, one of your classmates, Constance Selwyn, was tortured by the Dark Lord," an audible gasp escaped from the other three tables, and the Slytherin's all looked at one another knowingly. Regulus could feel the bile creeping back up his throat, but he swallowed it back and focused all of his attention on not being sick again. "She has been permanently placed in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's, and will no longer be a student here.

"If this news does not paint the picture of who the Dark Lord really is for the lot of you, I truly do not know what will. Constance Selwyn was a young witch who had her entire life ahead of her. However, all of the chances - the paths that she would take and lives that she would enter - have been taken from her by this coward of a man. The Dark Lord preaches the idea of 'pure-blood supremacy', but Constance Selwyn was a pure-blood. She was a pure-blood, and he did not hesitate in the torture that he made this poor girl endure. No one is safe in a world controlled by the Dark Lord. _No one_."

The entire hall was silent. Even the Slytherin's had stopped whispering snarky comments to one another. Regulus had his eyes closed, and was focusing very, very hard on keeping the sick in and the thoughts of what he had seen over the summer out.

"I ask you all, I _beg_ you all, please stick together. These are dark times that we are living in, and the Dark Lord has more than proven that no one is safe in his eyes. Be wary, and think for yourself. Similarly to what I said last year - do not take paths that you are not meant to take. Before you act, sit back and cogitate. I promise you, it will make a world of a difference.

"Now, onto lighter news. Mr. Filch has posted a fresh list of banned objects on his office door. I request that everyone go look at that, but please be sure to put it back when you're done. Don't want to give Mr. Filch more work, now do we?" Regulus glanced at the Gryffindor table, and he could see his brother giving his three friends a rather mischievous smile.

"I remind you all, the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden. Any student found sneaking into the forest will face severe consequences. Now, I am sure that you have all been pondering about who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher might be. Might I introduce you all, to Professor Amiyah Cole," Dumbledore gestured back to the staff table, where a middle-aged woman had stood.

She had deeply tanned skin and very dark brown curly hair. She smiled 'round at the students - putting a set of pearly-white teeth on display - and waved to each of the house tables in turn. "She is actually in the auror program, so I would go as far as to say that she may be just what we look for in Defense teachers," Dumbledore smiled and turned back to the students.

"I believe that is all. Before you go off to your dorm rooms, I would like to ask again - watch over each other," the same uncomfortable feeling had settled over the Great Hall, but Dumbledore smiled through it nonetheless. "Well, off you go. Pip pip."

That night, Regulus Black had nightmares about the torture that he had witnessed over the summer - the torture that had made one of his classmates go insane.

In Gryffindor tower, Benji, Francesco, and Deacon had stayed up well past midnight in the common room. When Deacon arrived home for the summer, his mother immediately locked up anything and everything that had to do with Hogwarts, so he hadn't even _started_ on his summer homework. When he confided this detail to his friends on the express, the two of them had insisted that they stay up that night with Deacon and help him complete it all.

Francesco headed off for bed at around two o'clock in the morning, leaving Benji and Deacon quite alone. When Deacon had finally finished his Transfiguration essay and had just begun on Herbology, Benji took the opportunity and cleared his throat.

"So... Clementine and Francesco broke up," he raised an eyebrow at Deacon, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

Deacon's entire body went rigid, and he vigilantly kept his eye on his paper. "Yeah, really sucks."

"Yeah, it does. But... you know what that means, don't you?"

Deacon looked up at Benji in confusion. Benji simply smiled back at the smaller boy - he was _very_ determined to help Deacon get the girl that he liked. Once he had seen the state that Deacon was in after returning from home, it made him realize just how much his best mate needed something to make him happy.

And Benjamin Stone was determined to do everything he could to help.

"No?" Deacon responded, keeping his quill trained on the paper.

"Oh come on, you don't need to pretend around me. I know."

Deacon gripped the quill so hard that he got a hand cramp, and he released it quickly with a small yelp of pain. Benji's smile did not falter.

"So, you gonna go for her?"

Deacon's body went stiff, and he looked warily at Benji. "What?"

"Clementine! She's single now, right? So? Are you gonna go for her?!"

Deacon's brows knit together, and he stopped massaging the tendons in his hand. "Why would I go for Clementine Bates?"

Benji's smile faded, and his expression turned to one of confusion. "Well, you like her, don't you?"

Deacon couldn't help it - he laughed. "Me? No! I mean, don't get me wrong, she's pretty and all, but I don't like Clementine Bates! Where on earth did you even get that idea?"

"Last year! You always seemed off whenever she was with-"

It hit him.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped - he looked quite like a cartoon. "OH BLOODY HELL!" he shouted, all concern for waking the other members of Gryffindor house gone. "YOU LIKE - you like - _Fran?_ "

Deacon had never been so tense in all of his life. Every single muscle in his body had contracted, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. _Play it cool_ , he thought to himself, _PLAY IT COOL!_

Deacon laughed again, though this one was audibly forced. "Me? Like Fran? _No_! That's ridiculous! What - what gave you that idea?"

Benji's face turned back into a grin, and his eyes lit up. "YOU DO! YOU DO, DON'T YOU?! OH BLOODY HELL! _YOU DO_!" Benji expected Deacon to smile with him - for them to laugh about the whole thing together and then talk about it. However, what happened next was _definitely_ not something that he had expected.

Deacon Ackland began to cry.

Not just cry - _sob_.

"I'm s-sorry! I'm sorry, Benji! I can - I'll - it's just- I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! Don't be an-angry! I know it's not good, and I hate - I hate myself for it and - and I just - I just wish I didn't and that - I just want to be - I'm sorry! I'm so s-" he could no longer speak. There was a lump constricting his breathing, and he was choking on the sobs that were trying to escape around it.

The grin melted from Benji's face in a fraction of a second, and he didn't hesitate before practically leaping over the coffee table between the two boys and comforting his friend. He wrapped his arms 'round the smaller boy's shoulders and rubbed his upper arm in a comforting manner.

"Hey, hey, don't apologize! Dea, hey, stop crying! It's ok, I promise!" Benji said hastily, staring sympathetically at the sobbing boy that he held in his arms.

"It's - it's not!" he choked, and he sobbed all the harder.

"But it is! Dea, hey, look at me. Deacon, _look at me_." Benji withdrew one of his arms from around Deacon's shoulders and used his pointer finger to tilt Deacon's chin up to face him. Deacon's eyes were already puffy and red, and his cheeks were absolutely soaked with tears. " _It's ok_."

"No it's not," Deacon muttered - it really came out as an odd sort of gurgling sound. His entire body wracked with sobs, and Benji squeezed him all the harder - it was as though he were afraid that, if he dared let go, Deacon Ackland might fall apart. So, he held his friend for almost an hour, letting him sob into the nape of his neck and clutch his shirt tightly with trembling fists. Benji rested his chin on the Deacon's shoulder, and he rocked the two boys back and forth, humming a tune that his mother always used to sing to him when he was younger and would wake up in the middle of the night crying from a nightmare. The song _always_ made him stop crying, and he just hoped that it would have the same affect on Deacon. More than anything, he just wanted Deacon to stop crying. This small boy - the sweetest boy that Benji had ever met in his entire life - did not deserve the amount of pain that he had already endured in his twelve short years of life. Benji wanted more than anything to absorb all of the pain that Deacon felt into his own body - he didn't care how much it hurt himself, if only it meant that Deacon didn't have to feel it any longer.

At half past three, Deacon's crying had died down, and Benji felt that it was safe to begin speaking again. "Deacon," he murmured gently, moving his hands to his best mate's shoulders and pulling him away so that their eyes met. There was a sadness in Deacon's eyes that Benji had never seen there - that didn't _belong there_ \- and his longing to take all of his pain away increased tenfold. "Deacon, I need you to listen to me, ok? _It's ok_. I swear to you, _it. Is. Ok._ "

Deacon shook his head - he didn't dare open his mouth. He was terrified that, if he did, the lump that had been lodged in his throat since Benji's realization would turn out to be his heart, and it would simply fall out of his mouth and shatter on the floor between the two boys.

Benji responded with a nod. "This doesn't change anything, ok? Absolutely nothing. You're still Deacon Ackland, you're still my best mate. So what if you like Fran, that doesn't matter! It _doesn't change anything_. You're not any less of a person because of who you love, Deacon."

"It's not ok, Benji, _it's not_!" Deacon cried, and new tears began welling up in his eyes. "I'm a boy. _I'm a boy_! I'm not _supposed_ to like other boys! I'm not - it's not _normal_!"

Benji waved a dismissive hand. "Who cares about _normal_. News flash, kid, you already aren't normal, are you? You aren't _supposed_ to be a wizard either, but here we are." he gestured 'round at the Gryffindor common room surrounding them. "So what if you like other boys. Like I said, it doesn't change who you are. You're still Deacon Ackland, the shy little kid who does exceptionally in Charms and Transfiguration, who tries to see the best in everyone. _You're still you_."

"But - but-"

"But _nothing_ , Deacon. I don't care. You. Are. No. Different. This doesn't make you any less of a person. You aren't any less deserving of happiness or love, Dea. I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again until it gets through that thick skull of yours. _This doesn't change anything._ _This doesn't change the way I think of you. This doesn't change who you are as a person. You're still you. You're still Deacon_. You're just... the Deacon who _happens_ to like boys instead of girls. I still love you."

Deacon was silent a moment, and then he hung his head in shame. "He's our best friend."

"So? Fran's pretty hot, as far as men go, I can definitely see where you're coming from. But that _ego_ , Dea, come on! If you're gonna like boys, at _least_ have good taste in them!"

Despite himself, Deacon laughed. Benji smiled down at Deacon, enjoying the smile that was on the smaller boy's face. He would remember that smile forever. He reached up a hand and cupped Deacon's cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. "I still love you, Dea. If you like boys, you like boys."

Deacon smiled at his best mate. He had never felt more loved in his entire life than he did in that moment. He relished in the feeling of it - Benjamin Stone was possibly the kindest boy that Deacon had ever met.

Though, his smile quickly faded, and his face was consumed by sadness again. "You can't tell. No one. Not a soul. Please, please you can't-"

"Dea, I wouldn't dream of it," Benji assured him, and relief washed over Deacon.

The two boys were silent a moment, staring at one another in a whole new light. "Thank you," Deacon finally muttered.

"You can tell me anything, Deacon. I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I promise. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Deacon Ackland and Benjamin Stone would remember this night for the rest of their lives.


	24. Midnight on the Pitch

The following day was a Sunday.

The students of Hogwarts were all enjoying their first day of school being a weekend, and spent it wandering 'round the grounds. Regulus, however, spent the majority of his time locked in his dorm room. With the new knowledge that - not only was Snape a Legilimens, but he was also actively reading Regulus's mind to try to gain more information on him - he knew that he _needed_ to learn Occlumency.

So, he spent the entire day alone, reading _The Art of Occlumency_ \- which he had packed and brought to Hogwarts just in case - cover to cover. By dinner, he thought that he had enough of an understanding of it to stop for the day.

So, he stowed the book away under his mattress, suppressed any thought of the book, and made his way to dinner. Barty was sitting on their usual bench towards the end of the table, talking intently with Phoebe Scott. When Regulus took his spot on the bench, Barty broke away from his talk with Phoebe and looked at Regulus with a furrowed brow.

"What have you been doing all day? We all went out on the grounds, it was a really nice day. You should've come, I had to hang out with _Rosier and Travers_." Barty remarked, watching as Regulus piled his plate with food.

Regulus shrugged. "I was reading."

Barty raised an eyebrow. "You were _reading_? _All day_?"

"Yeah. I just - er - had to catch up on some of the summer reading that I hadn't done," he fabricated.

"Oh, well that makes sense I guess."

Regulus nodded.

All of a sudden, Carson Nott came down the table and leaned down between the two boys. "Hey guys," he said, and he draped an arm over each of their narrow shoulders.

"Er - hi," Regulus said, turning his head to find that the tip of his nose nearly pressed directly into the side of Carson's face.

"Did you lot hear what's going on tonight?"

"No?" Barty replied, also only realizing the close proximity of him and Carson when he tried to turn his head.

Carson glanced up at the teachers table to be sure that none of them were listening, and then leaned closer. "We're having a little Quidditch match on the pitch tonight. The Gryffindor captain and I are gonna be choosing teams to play against each other. At least half of the school is coming. Black, I heard you have a broom?"

"Yeah, I got it last Christmas," excitement coursed through Regulus's veins.

"Are you good?"

Regulus shrugged. "I think so."

Carson Nott grinned and slapped Regulus heartily on the back. "Excellent. Meet down in the common room at quarter to midnight, we're all walking out together," and he walked back to his place at the end of the table.

So, at a quarter to midnight, all four of the second year boys walked down to the common room, Regulus with his broom slung over his shoulder. When they reached the usually empty common room, it was absolutely packed, it seemed like the whole house was down there!

"Ok, we're going in groups so Filch doesn't catch us, got it? Um, Macnair, you take those ones, Crabbe with them, Goyle with those," and he paired off the upperclassman with groups of younger students. By the end of it, all who was left were the four second year boys, Severus Snape, and Augustus Rookwood. "Alright, you lot are coming with me. If any of you get us caught, you're going to _regret it_ , got it?"

The boys all muttered their understanding, and Carson Nott held open the common room door. They moved in complete and utter silence, taking soft steps so as to be sure that their footsteps wouldn't echo through the cold stone corridor. It was quite dark, and Regulus was freezing from the temperature drop that came with being down in the dungeons. Nevertheless, the group reached the entrance hall at the same time as a group of Ravenclaw's, and they all walk out onto the grounds (separately, of course, for the Slytherin's didn't want to have to interact with 'potential mudbloods').

When they arrived out on the pitch, Regulus and Barty were both quite shocked to find that Carson hadn't been lying - it looked like the entire bloody school was there! The stands were absolutely packed, and there had to be at least forty people on the pitch itself, all holding brooms.

"Alright, if you lot want to play, stay on the pitch. Otherwise, go up to the stands," Carson said, and he disappeared through the crowd of people with his broom under his arm.

Regulus turned to Barty. "Are you gonna play?"

Barty shrugged. "I don't really like playing Quidditch. Don't think I would be that good at it, either."

"Oh, ok," Regulus responded, and he switched his broom from one shoulder to the other.

"You'll do great, Reg. They'd be stupid not to pick you for their team,"

"Yeah, thanks."

Barty nodded and turned 'round, making his way towards the rickety wooden staircase that lead up to the stands. Regulus took a deep breath and turned to the giant group of people, seeing if he recognized anyone there.

There were quite a few people who were using school brooms, hence the giant pile of them on the ground before the changing rooms. Regulus made his way into the crowd, looking at everyone that he passed. Though, by the time they were ordered to get into a line, Regulus hadn't seen anyone that he recognized.

Carson Nott and a girl who Regulus recognized as the 6th year Gryffindor prefect the year before - Alannah Lewis - were pacing in front of the line. Alannah looked at Carson, who was eyeing everyone carefully, and gestured for him to go first.

Carson immediately pointed to Mark Mulciber and gestured for him to stand behind himself. Mulciber sauntered forward with a cocky grin and took his place. Alannah was next, and she walked up and down the line slowly, looking at everyone. Regulus felt nerves rise up in him - what if neither of the captains wanted him to play for them?

Alannah stopped pacing and pointed to someone who Regulus couldn't see from where he was standing. "Potter. Go," and she pointed behind her.

James Potter came strutting out of the line, exponentially more cocky than Mulciber had been. Carson was next.

"Goyle," Francis Goyle took his place beside Mulciber.

Alannah.

She was about to say who she wanted, but then she spotted Regulus standing in the line. She closed her mouth for the briefest of seconds, pointed to who she had originally, and said, "You."

To Regulus's surprise, Sirius came strolling out of the line and joined James. Sirius followed where Alannah had been looking, and his jaw dropped when he saw Regulus in the line. Regulus shifted his weight uneasily, and turned to Carson, who was picking his next player.

"Fairman," Gillian walked towards the other two boys, intentionally standing a few feet away.

"Reynolds," a Hufflepuff boy came forward and joined the two Gryffindor's.

Carson eyed the line carefully. "Black."

Relief washed over Regulus, and he walked swiftly to where the others were standing.

"McKinnon," Marlene McKinnon joined Sirius and James with a grin on her face.

"Rosier," Evan Rosier took his place beside Mulciber, and the two started snickering over the other line.

"Walsh," a Ravenclaw girl joined the Gryffindor's.

Carson eyed the remaining line, looking for his last player. He walked over to a Ravenclaw boy and pointed directly at him. "You. What's your blood status?"

Alannah Lewis let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Honestly, Nott, _does it matter_?"

"Yes," he amended, though he kept his gaze trained on the Ravenclaw.

"Pure-blood?" he responded, shifting uncomfortably.

Carson eyed him a second. "Name?"

"Lorenzo Jordan," he responded.

Carson pointed to the group of Slytherin's behind him. "Go."

Jordan reluctantly made his way towards the sneering Slytherin's, and stood a few feet away from them. Alannah looked the line over, trying to decide on who the last addition to her team would be.

"Ackland," she said.

Regulus looked up from the ground at the last name, and watched a rather scared-looking Deacon Ackland make his way over to the Gryffindor team. Applause burst out from the stands, and Regulus looked up to see Benjamin Stone and Francesco Anderson cheering rather vigorously for their best mate.

"Alright, you lot, go to the stands," Carson said to the remaining group of students, and he waved a dismissive hand. He turned back to his team and looked them all over. "Alright. Mulciber, Rosier, you two are Beaters."

He threw them each a Beaters bat, which Regulus hadn't even realized he was holding beneath his arm. "Jordan, Fairman, you two are Chasers with me." Gillian and Lorenzo both nodded their heads in agreement. "Goyle, you'll play Keeper," he picked up the Keepers gear from the ground and tossed it towards Goyle, who caught it and began putting it on. "Black, that leaves you as Seeker. Everyone understand?"

A muttering of agreement passed through the circle, and Regulus nodded his head vigorously. He was _determined_ to do good at being Seeker, _especially_ because Sirius was watching. "Great. Let's go,"

The group all mounted their brooms and flew up towards the middle of the pitch, where the other team had just arrived. Regulus looked nervously at the darkness around him - how on earth was he supposed to see the Snitch when it was this bloody dark out? He had never even had any experience trying to catch a Snitch, let alone in the middle of the night!

"Ready, Lewis?" Carson Nott shouted, giving the Gryffindor Quidditch captain a rather menacing smile.

She responded with a smile that was absolutely dripping with sarcasm. "Are you?"

Carson Nott scowled, and he reached out to shake her hand reproachfully. Pandora Fernsby stepped onto the pitch, carrying the box of Quidditch balls. She set it down on the ground directly beneath the two teams and kneeled down beside it, opening up the lid. Pandora looked up at the commentators stand, waiting for whoever would be commentating this Quidditch match to begin.

"Hello!" a boy shouted, and his voice rang through the pitch. Several people covered their ears, and others groaned from the sudden burst of noise.

"Xenophilius, be quiet! You're gonna wake the whole bloody castle!" a girl shouted beside him, and the stands burst into laughter as her voice rang through the pitch.

"Sorry," he said, though he wasn't much quieter than he had been before. "Pandora, darling, you can release the Snitch now!"

Pandora smiled and shook her head, opening up the small compartment that held the Snitch. She held the small golden ball between her fingers and watched as long spindly wings sprouted from each side. Pandora released the Snitch from her grasp, and she watched as it flew up to the two teams.

Regulus was very glad to discover that the Snitch wasn't _impossible_ to see in the dark. The Snitch paused in front of Regulus's face, as though it were trying to give Regulus a very good look of itself. Regulus studied the way that the moonlight reflected off of the little golden ball, and the way that its wings were flapping so fast that they just looked like little white and silver blurs.

After a few seconds, the snitch zoomed away and stopped in front of the face of Deacon Ackland, who looked very nervous on his broom. Regulus assumed that Deacon was the other Seeker, and so he made a mental note to pay extra attention to what he would be doing during the game.

The Snitch raced away, and Regulus lost sight of it in the darkness of the pitch. Next, the Bludgers were released. They shot straight up into the air, closely followed by the Quaffle - which had been thrown up by Pandora Fernsby - and the game had begun. Francis Goyle and the Hufflepuff boy - Zachary Reynolds - shot back towards the tall goal-posts on either side of the pitch. Sirius Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mark Mulciber, and Evan Rosier all raced towards the Bludgers, bats in hand. James Potter, Alannah Lewis, Nadia Walsh, Carson Nott, Gillian Fairman, and Lorenzo Jordan all darted towards the Quaffle, racing to be the first one to catch it.

Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland both got similar ideas, and sped upwards, away from the game. Regulus leveled out his broom a few feet above the pitch and watched the game unfold.

Gillian Fairman reached the Quaffle first and scooped it underneath her arm in one smooth motion. She, Nott, and Jordan all flew down the pitch towards the rings that Zachary Reynolds was guarding, weaving through the Bludgers that were being shot their way by Marlene and Sirius. Gillian Fairman reached the goal posts, and Regulus could see that she was getting ready to pass the Quaffle to Nott so that he could sink it through the unguarded ring.

James Potter saw this, too.

Right as the Quaffle left Gillian's hand, James Potter came up from below and snatched it out of mid air, tucking it under his arm and barreling down the length of the pitch. He sunk the Quaffle through the rings before Francis Goyle was even entirely sure that the Quaffle had left his team's possession.

The stands erupted into applause, and Xenophilius cheerily changed the score on the little scoreboard by his side. "10 to 0, team A!" Regulus assumed that they must be team B.

"NICE ONE, JAMES!" Sirius shouted, zooming over to his best mate as Francis Goyle looped 'round the rings to fetch the Quaffle.

Regulus and Deacon stayed hovering above the game, watching everything unfold. Carson Nott had scored quite an excellent goal against the opposing Keeper, and Regulus suddenly understood why _he_ had been named captain. Gillian Fairman was no less talented - she and Lorenzo Jordan worked excellently together. They managed to score almost ten whole goals just by psyching out the other Keeper and performing false moves.

However, James Potter was certainly keeping up with them with his skills alone.

Regulus did noticed that he was a bit of a hog when it came to passing the Quaffle, but it didn't seem to be affecting their team negatively at all. Alannah and Nadia were both excellent as well, and the result was that their team was almost always at least 50 points ahead.

Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon were both excellent Beaters, especially considering that neither of them were on a Quidditch team like almost all of the other players were. They shot Bludger after Bludger at the three opposing Chasers with surprising strength. Rosier and Mulciber were also very strong, though they weren't anywhere near as good as Sirius and Marlene were at aiming and calculating where their Bludgers would meet the target.

After an entire hour had passed, Regulus and Deacon had both failed to see the Snitch. The score was 330-270, and everyone on the pitch was beginning to tire out. Finally, Carson Nott called a time out.

"Time out on the pitch!" Xenophilius said dazedly - Regulus noticed that he wasn't even paying particular attention to the game, for he kept trying to brush something off of his shoulder.

Pandora Fernsby expertly cast two charms at the Bludgers, causing them both to lose their momentum and fall to the ground - Regulus wondered how many times she had done that before.

The two teams joined together, and Carson stared squarely at Regulus. "You need to catch the Snitch."

"I know, I've been looking, but it's really hard to see in the dark," Regulus responded.

"Well look better. I have a bet riding on this, alright? So you'd better catch that bloody snitch."

"I will," Regulus assured him, and Carson nodded.

"Goyle, why the hell are they getting so many Quaffle's past you? If you don't start paying better attention and preventing their goals, your place on the team won't be secured. Got it?"

"It's that ruddy Potter kid!" Goyle retorted.

Carson Nott sent a harsh glare his way. " _Got it_?"

Goyle mumbled something that sounded like, "yes," and Carson Nott nodded his head.

"Fairman, Jordan, you two are doing good. Keep going, and score more goals."

"Oh please," Gillian said, raising an eyebrow, "we're carrying this bloody team."

"What do you mean you're carrying the team? I've made more goals than you!"

"Yes, but you've also missed twice as many, Nott."

The two Slytherin's glared at one another for a moment, but Carson was the first one to break. He turned to Rosier and Mulciber.

"Aim better," and he mounted his broom. "We need to win. Hurry up," he shot up into the air.

The others mounted their brooms quickly, and they met the other team in the middle. The game resumed, but Regulus took a different approach.

He started zooming 'round the pitch, watching the game unfold from the outskirts. He was flying circles for almost ten minutes before he began to become frustrated - where was the bloody Snitch! Had it just left? Had it flown away from the pitch? He let out an exasperated sigh and began flying faster.

He looked up at the game itself again just in time to see Sirius expertly hit a Bludger towards Gillian Fairman, who lost her speed and target from having to avoid it. Then, he noticed something else.

Deacon Ackland had just pulled into a rather spectacular dive.

Regulus followed his line of sight, and he saw it. There was a glint of moonlight on the tiny golden ball, which was flying just above the grassy ground below.

Regulus pulled into a dive, practically laying flat on his broom to gain as much speed as he could. Every single pair of eyes on the pitch, including everyone involved in the game itself, were on the two Seekers.

Regulus gripped the broom so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, focusing every single ounce of attention that he had on the small golden ball. Regulus reached out a hand, extended his arm as far as he could, scooted a little further up on his broom so as to get a further reach, bit his lip from concentration, and-

They reached the Snitch at the same time.

Their hands slammed together first, and then shoulders met, then their torso's, and then they had completely slammed into one another and fallen to the ground below.

The crowd let out an audible gasp, and everyone looked down at the two motionless boys on the ground. The entire pitch was holding their breath, and the other players were staring at them in shock.

Regulus had had the breath knocked out of him, and he stared blankly at the starry night sky above. His eyes darted from star to star, taking in the stark contrast of their bright white light against the dark blue background.

Deacon groaned beside him, and Regulus finally found air in his lungs. He took a gasping breath, and tightened his fists - he was quite surprised to find something in his right hand.

He lifted his arm from the ground and examined what he was holding. The Snitch was flapping its wings on either side of Regulus's fingers, still trying to escape his grasp.

As soon as everyone realized what he was holding, the Slytherin's burst into applause. "GO REG!" Barty Crouch Jr. shouted from where he was sitting in the stands.

The rest of the team darted down to the ground, and Carson Nott pulled Regulus up from the ground quite roughly. "Nice job, Black," he said, and he patted Regulus heartily on the back. The force of Carson's hand hitting Regulus's back caused him to stumble forwards, but Gillian Fairman caught him.

"Good job, Regulus," she said, gripping his shoulders and helping him stand upright.

Regulus was flushed with excitement, and his heart was beating at twice its normal speed. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Deacon Ackland stood up from the ground and brushed off his clothes.

The other team landed down beside the smaller boy, and Alannah Lewis gave him a warm smile. "You did fantastic, Deacon."

"I didn't catch it," Deacon murmured.

"So what," Alannah waved a dismissive hand, "you've never even played Quidditch before, and look how good you did! Winning isn't everything, it just matters that you gave it your all."

Deacon gave Alannah a forced smile. "Thanks."

By this point, the stands had emptied out onto the pitch, and everyone was chatting amongst one another. Benji and Francesco b-lined for Deacon, wide smiles on their faces.

"YOU DID SO GOOD, DEA!" Francesco shouted, and he scooped the smaller boy into a rather tight embrace.

Francesco's grip was so tight that Deacon had felt the air leave his lungs, but he didn't care. He relished in the feeling of Francesco's arms wrapped 'round his small and sweaty body. Ever since Benji had found out about who Deacon really liked and assured him that it didn't change anything, Deacon found himself suppressing the feelings that he felt towards Francesco just a little less. Of course, just because Benji had said it would be ok and that it didn't change anything, he knew that that wouldn't change how Francesco felt about Deacon.

Deacon knew that Francesco would never love him back.

And that made the hug that Francesco was giving Deacon a lot more sullen.

Benji made eye contact with Deacon over Francesco's shoulder, and he gave the smaller boy a smirk. Benji knew just how much Deacon must've been enjoying the hug that he was wrapped in. Ever since Benji had discover Deacon's feelings for Francesco, Benji had paid extra attention to the dynamic of the two boys. Much to his dismay, Francesco didn't seem to be reciprocating Deacon's feelings whatsoever. This sparked a pain in Benji's heart - he felt awful for Deacon.

Everyone celebrated on the pitch for almost an hour, several people coming over to Regulus and complimenting him on his catch. At half past three in the morning, everyone was becoming absolutely exhausted - _especially_ considering that the next day would be the official start of term.

They all began heading to the pitch in a mixture of large and small groups, no one really caring if Filch were to catch them or not - he couldn't punish the entire student body.

Regulus and Barty were walking side-by-side, replaying the entire match in their minds. Regulus told Barty everything from his perspective, and Barty told Regulus the perspective of the game that came from the stands. Suddenly, Regulus felt a tap on his shoulder.

He spun 'round - broom flung over his shoulder - and began to walk backwards while he stared into the eyes of who had tapped him.

It was Deacon Ackland.

The other Seeker gave Regulus a friendly smile. "Good job."

"Thanks," Regulus replied, quite unsure of himself.

Deacon nodded and then took off ahead of the Slytherin boys, rushing to join his two friends. Regulus turned forwards again just in time to hop over a small hole in the path that led to the castle. Regulus saw someone come up and begin walking next to him from the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see James Potter.

"Hey, Regulus. I just wanted to say that you did a good job - that catch was fantastic," he gave the younger Black brother a smile. "And, I know he'll never admit it, but I know that Sirius is proud too."

"Oh, uh - er - thanks." Regulus wasn't sure why James Potter was speaking to him, and he didn't exactly enjoy it either.

"No problem. Well, have a good night," and he jogged forward with his broom rested on his shoulder, similar to how Regulus was holding his.

Regulus and Barty walked the rest of the way to their common room in silence. Regulus was still over the moon about catching the Snitch, and the praise from James Potter made his pride multiply exponentially. Sirius was proud of him. James Potter thought that Sirius was proud of him.

Regulus had a sudden new interest in playing Quidditch.


	25. The Dating Coach

The entire Great Hall was full of exhausted students. The teachers were all absolutely baffled as to why the entire student body had great big bags under their eyes, and none of them seemed to be able to come to a reasonably conclusion. Half of the Great Hall was sleeping on their breakfast, and the other half was chugging mug after mug of black coffee.

Regulus had his arms crossed on the table, and his face was buried in the crook of his elbow. He was snoozing away, in an odd half-asleep state where he was conscious of what was going on around him, but he couldn't seem to move his body; it was as though his body were asleep but his mind were wide awake.

"Hey, Reg, we - we gotta go," Barty said, yawning halfway through.

He shook Regulus's shoulders, and Regulus groaned. He lifted his hand and waved off Barty's hand, letting out an inaudible grunt.

"Reg, come on," Barty grabbed Regulus's arm and tugged him up off of the bench.

Regulus fell backwards off of the bench from the force of Barty's tug, hitting the stone floor with a loud _THUMP!_ Several people in the Great Hall looked over at the boy sprawled out across the ground, though none of them commented on it; they all knew _exactly_ how he felt.

Their first class of the term was - once again - Potions with Gryffindor. The students had all spent so long sitting in their Potions seats from last term, that they didn't even think about sitting anywhere else. For this reason, Barty and Regulus walked into the classroom expecting to sit at their little four-person desk.

However, they were shocked to see that the layout of the classroom was entirely different.

Instead of the long tables that lined the room horizontally, there were now large square tables. Barty and Regulus looked at one another, and then looked at the tables around them. There were only two tables that weren't occupied, and each of them only had one seat available.

There was a desk that held Evan Rosier, Theodore Travers, and Phoebe Scott, and a desk that held Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone.

"I call that table," Barty said quickly, pointing to the Slytherin table.

Regulus groaned. "Seriously?"

"Sorry Reg," and he rushed off to the table.

Regulus groaned again and, very reluctantly, made his way towards the table which held the three Gryffindor second years. They all ceased in their conversation the second that Regulus came within ear shot, and Francesco and Benji both shot Regulus a _very_ fiery glare. Regulus shot one right back, and he dropped his book bag onto the flagstone floor beneath him.

"What are you doing here?" Francesco asked in a cold tone, narrowing his eyes at Regulus.

"I have this class too, you dolt," Regulus responded, and he sat heavily upon the last remaining stool at the table.

"I mean here, stupid," Francesco retorted, and he gestured to the table that the four boys were sharing.

"In case you didn't notice, it's the only bloody table left," Regulus said, and he motioned 'round the room at the full tables.

"Well than kick someone out of another one," Francesco replied.

"Oh, yeah, because you three are just so wonderful to be around, anyone would give up their spot to sit with the _great Gryffindor boys_ ," Regulus rolled his eyes and folded his arms on the table, burying his face into them.

"Yeah because everyone is just lining up to sit next to _Regulus bloody Black_ ," Francesco said through clenched teeth.

Regulus lifted his head and stared directly into the eyes of Francesco Anderson. "My ego isn't over the ruddy moon, I know people don't want to sit next to me."

"Then sit somewhere else!"

"I can't!"

"YES YOU CAN!"

"NO I CAN'T!"

Francesco stood up so fast that his chair almost fell to the ground. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to the four boys's table. Deacon buried his face in his hands and shook his head, letting out an irritated groan. Francesco raised his wand and pointed it levelly at Regulus's face.

Regulus raised an eyebrow and gave Francesco a look that said _do it, I dare you_. Francesco didn't hesitate.

" _Mucus ad Nauseam_!" Francesco bellowed, and a jet of green light hit Regulus squarely in the face.

Regulus felt as though all of his muscles had suddenly tightened, and they became so sore that he could barely move his arms without wincing. His nose had also begun to run quite rapidly, and he had to wipe it with the back of his hand within seconds to keep snot from dripping down his face. His condition was getting worse by the second, and soon he had an uncomfortable pressure in his skull and couldn't stop himself from sneezing.

Regulus promptly drew his wand from the pocket of his robes, and he pointed it at Francesco's chest.

" _Flipendo_!" he said, and he sneezed again as the spell hit Francesco and sent him flying backwards.

"Welcome class! Today we will be - _what in the name of Merlin is going on here_?" Slughorn walked through the classroom door just as Francesco was hitting the ground behind himself.

"HE STARTED IT!" Francesco and Regulus both yelled at once, pointing to the other. Regulus sneezed again.

"It doesn't matter who's started it! There is absolutely NO dueling in this classroom! This is highly inappropriate, never once have I - Mr. Black, will you please stop sneezing!"

"I can't!" Regulus sneezed again. "He hexed me!" Sneeze.

"Mr. Anderson, what on earth have you hexed this poor boy with?!" Slughorn questioned.

Francesco, who had since stood up and was rubbing his tailbone, rolled his eyes. "Oh please, he's fine! He's just being a ruddy baby about it,"

Regulus sneezed. "Shut up!"

"Ten points from the both of you," Slughorn said, and he waddled up to the front of the classroom. Clucking his tongue in disapproval, he began searching through the shelves that lined the wall behind his desk. "Ah, here we are," Slughorn pulled out a small bottle which contained a red-colored potion. "Here you are, Mr. Black. Drink this,"

Regulus reached out a hand, sneezing and almost dropping the bottle as Slughorn handed it to him. Without a second's hesitation, he uncorked the bottle and downed its contents completely. Regulus let out a sigh of relief as the potion cascaded down his throat, leaving behind a trail of warmth. He felt his muscles ease up and relax, and his nose stopped running instantly.

"Better, is it?" Slughorn asked, taking the empty bottle from Regulus and laying a firm hand on his shoulder. Regulus nodded, enjoying the warmth that remained in his body from the potion. "Excellent!" Slughorn boomed, and he turned back to the front of the room with a smile.

Nothing else happened in Potions. They took notes, similarly to how they had done on their first day the year before, and that was it. Francesco, Deacon, Benji, and Regulus all carefully avoided one another's eyes.

Benji and Deacon would steal the occasional glance at one another, and they would have entire conversations with just their eyes; these always consisted of Benji poking fun at the fact that Deacon had a crush on someone as big-headed and impulsive as Fran, and Deacon would just turn red and look away.

When class was over, Regulus was out of the room in seconds. He waited for Barty, who was taking considerably longer than he normally did. When Barty finally did come out, he found Regulus pacing back and forth, and he knew he was about to hear minutes on end of Francesco slander - they began walking side-by-side down the cold dungeon corridor.

"Barty, he's unbearable! I swear, I would rather sit at a table with my ruddy brother and his mates than him," Regulus complained, waving his hands this way and that to emphasize his points.

"Yeah, it's like he thinks he's god or something. I swear, his ego could probably crush a full grown Hungarian Horntail." Barty responded.

"EXACTLY!"

"The others seem annoying, too. That mudblood and whatever the other one is,"

Regulus shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Deacon and Benjamin didn't really talk today, so I guess they weren't that bad."

"Yeah, but that kid's still a mudblood. Remember at the beginning of last year when he was just like, sad all the time? What was that even about?"

"Dunno, never really found out, did we?"

Barty shrugged his shoulders, "Well I guess it doesn't really matter why."

"Yeah," Regulus agreed.

They had four more classes that day. Next up after Potions was Charms, and following that was Defense Against the Dark Arts with the new teacher.

The second year Slytherin's were targeted by the older students that day at lunch; they would be the first ones to have Defense in the whole house. So, almost every single older student was bombarding the second years with question after question.

Barty and Regulus had managed to avoid most of them, but they weren't completely immune. After Francis Goyle, the sixth older student who had asked the pair of them about the new teacher, had walked away, Carson Nott came strolling over.

Regulus groaned and buried his face in his hands. "If you're here to ask about the Defense teacher, you should know that we haven't even had her yet, so we can't tell you anything," Regulus murmured when Carson leaned down next to him.

"I'm not here to ask about the stupid Defense teacher, quite frankly, I could care less about her. I'm actually here to talk to you, little Black," he nudged Regulus in the shoulder with his elbow, and Regulus lifted his face from his hands to look at Carson.

"Little Black?"

"Yeah, you're the younger one, aren't you? Little Black."

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned back to his plate of food. "What do you want?"

"You. Quidditch. We need a new Seeker, and you did pretty well at the match last night. Tryouts are gonna be at the end of the month, and you'd better be there."

"You want me to play Seeker for the team?" Regulus was a little surprised by the sudden proposal, he thought that they already had a Seeker.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, you did good at the match last night, won it for us. And our Seeker graduated last year, so we have an open position. All I'm saying is that you should at least come to tryouts." Carson shrugged.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, yeah I will. Thanks."

Carson smirked and punched Regulus in the shoulder. "Good. See you then, little Black," and he made his way back down the table towards his group of friends.

Professor Cole was standing in front of the classroom, leaning against her desk. When Regulus entered the classroom and saw her like this, he was reminded of Milo Bell. Their old Professor had always started the class in that very same position. She glanced towards the two Slytherin boys, and a smile crossed her face. "Welcome in, take a seat," and she gestured to the desks in front of herself.

Regulus and Barty quickly took a desk almost directly in the middle of the room, sitting beside one another. "It'll be nice to be able to sit together," Barty muttered to Regulus, and Regulus nodded in agreement.

"Welcome in, have a seat," Amiyah Cole said, and Regulus glanced over his shoulder to see who she was welcoming in.

Benjamin Stone, Deacon Ackland, and Francesco Anderson had just entered the room. The three boys looked at one another, and then at the room - there were only two person desks.

"You two can sit, I think I'm gonna try to sit next to Lennox," Francesco said.

"Lennox? Why?" Deacon asked.

Francesco smirked. "Well, she's pretty cute, isn't she? It'd be nice to get to know her."

"Oh. Yeah, cool, have fun," Deacon replied, and he rushed off to the desk in the far left corner.

Francesco looked at Benji. "What's his problem? Doesn't have a crush on Lennox too, does he?"

Benji shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh - er - maybe, I don't know. Why would I know? No, no I don't know anything. Nope. Nothing. Bye!"

Francesco furrowed his brow and watched Benji's retreating back as he rushed towards the empty seat next to Deacon. _What the bloody hell is going on with them?_

Benji sat down next to Deacon, who was staring at the desktop before him very, very hard. He reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on Deacon's shoulder, giving the smaller boy a smile.

"You ok?" he asked softly, just above a breath.

Deacon nodded his head numbly, though he didn't revert his eyes from the grain of the wood which he was studying. Benji sighed and turned forward, just in time to see Francesco pulling out a seat for Lennox, who took it gratefully. Benji rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the teacher, who was just welcoming in the last of the students.

The last two students, Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers, sat down, and Professor Cole smiled 'round the room. "Hello, everyone. I'm Amiyah Cole, and I'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor from here on out. Now, I know that it's rather unconventional, but I would like to get to know all of you better. So, we're going to do a sort of... activity. We're going to go around the room and introduce ourselves," the class was completely silent. "Anyone want to go first?" Silence.

Professor Cole let out a sigh and began pacing the front of the room. "Alright, I'll go first. My name is Amiyah Cole, I'm thirty-two, I attended Hogwarts from 1952-1959. I was in Hufflepuff house, I became Prefect both my fifth and sixth years, and I was Head Girl my seventh. After I graduated I joined the auror training program, and I've been an auror for the Ministry of Magic ever since. I was asked to come teach you lot by Dumbledore following the resignation of your last Professor, Milo Bell, as you all knew him. Any questions?"

Lottie Burton's hand shot into the air. "Yes?" Professor Cole asked, pointing to her.

"How long will you be teaching us? Don't you have work?"

"I'm not sure how long I'll be teaching here. Yes, I do have other work, but a few of my co-workers have offered to take some cases off of my hands for the time being. We all owe Dumbledore a favor, so this is sort of a... communal, teaching job."

"Communal?"

"Yes, some days you may have a substitute here aside from myself. I already have a few friends lined up who would be willing to teach for a day or two in the case that I need to take a short leave of absence," she paused and looked at all of the students before her. "Anything else?"

No one said anything. "Alright then, your turn. Let's see... you, would you like to go first?" She pointed at Evan Rosier.

He sneered at her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Come on, all you need to do is introduce yourself."

"Evan Rosier," he said shortly.

"Ok, Mr. Rosier. What is your favorite subject here at Hogwarts?"

"Not this one," his voice was cold, and there was a rather intense grimace etched into his pale features.

She sighed. "Alright then. You?"

Lennox Wright looked up from where she was speaking to Francesco, and she smiled at Professor Cole. "My name is Lennox Wright,"

"Hello, Miss Wright. Do you have any hobbies?"

Lennox shrugged. "I used to paint."

Professor Cole gave her a warm smile. "Ah, I loved painting when I was young. I used to sit out there by the Black Lake and paint for hours on end during the Christmas breaks where I would stay here."

"Were you any good?"

"Oh, Merlin no. I was dreadful. But, it was more about the process than the outcome for me."

The class went around, introducing themselves and being asked obscure questions by their new Professor. When she reached the last two people in the room, Barty and Regulus, she pointed to Barty first.

"I'm Barty Crouch Jr.," Barty said.

Recognition lit up Professor Cole's face, and she smiled at him. "Oh, you're Mr. Crouch's son. Yes, I've heard about you. He's technically my boss, you know. Him and Mr. Moody."

"I'm sure he's talked nothing but rubbish about me?"

Professor Cole furrowed her brow in confusion. "Rubbish? Merlin no! He speaks quite highly of you, really. Says you're smart as a whip."

"Really?" Barty was shocked by this news, and it carried in his voice.

Professor Cole nodded her head solemnly. "Though, he hasn't really talked much about you recently. Sort of stopped last year," she shrugged.

Barty nodded his head in understanding - of course his father hadn't talked about him since the year before. The year before was when Barty had been sorted Slytherin.

"Last but not least," Professor Cole began, turning her attention to Regulus, "you."

"I'm Regulus Black." Regulus said, and Professor Cole nodded her head.

"Ah, yes, I knew I recognized you from somewhere. Well, not you, per se, but you do look quite a lot like the other members of your family."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Regulus mumbled.

Professor Cole was silent a moment, and then she cleared her throat. "Well, see, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Almost everyone muttered in agreement. Professor Cole smiled. "Well, let's start by going over this years curriculum, shall we?"

Later that night, Francesco, Deacon, and Benji were in their dorm room. Benji was laying on the bed, scribbling away at the questions that they had been given in History of Magic that day, and Deacon was doing the same, only at his desk. Francesco was laying in his bed, hands splayed across his stomach, staring dreamily at the maroon canopy above him. 

"She's brilliant, isn't she?" he asked, and both of the other boys looked at him.

"Who?" Benji asked.

"Lennox! She's just so... so... so pretty, and smart, and she's funny, and she's just... Merlin, she's great!" he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at his two best mates with a dopey smile on his face.

Benji glanced over at Deacon, who had become quite tense at the topic of the conversation. He looked back at Francesco and shrugged. "She's ok."

"Ok? OK?! Benji, she's like... the best girl at the whole school!"

"Weren't you just saying that about Clementine like, four months ago?"

Francesco waved a dismissive hand. "Eh, yeah, but she was too clingy. Lennox... Lennox isn't." he suddenly turned his attention to Deacon. "Hey, you like Clementine, don't you Deacon?"

"What?" Deacon asked. He could feel his cheeks burning.

"Clementine? You should totally go for her!"

Deacon glanced at Benji, who was staring very hard at his homework. Last time Deacon had denied having a crush on Clementine, Benji had figured out the truth within seconds. So, he knew that there was really only one option.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe I will."

That Friday, Regulus was sitting at the Slytherin table for dinner. He was eating a pile of mashed potatoes that was absolutely drenched in gravy and staring absently at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter were deep in conversation, and they kept sending glances down the table. Curiously, Regulus's eyes traced the length of the table in the direction that they were looking. The only people that he recognized were the five second year Gryffindor's, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary Macdonald. He looked back at his brother, who was now leaning very close to Remus Lupin and whispering something to him.

His brows knit together as he noticed the state that Remus Lupin was in. His muscles seemed tense, and he was bouncing his knee up and down anxiously. Regulus wondered whether this reaction was coming from what Sirius was telling him, or the closeness of Sirius to himself.

He brushed this thought off and looked back at his plate. His fork faltered on the way to his mouth, and he lowered it back to his plate with a trembling hand. He looked down the table and met the black eyes of Severus Snape.

He could feel Severus pushing his way through Regulus's thoughts.

"And did you hear about that kid Francesco and Lennox? They're dating," Sirius said, and the four Gryffindor boys glanced down the table towards the group of second years. "I swear, that kid really gets around."

James wiped an imaginary tear from his cheek. "I've taught him well,"

Sirius burst out laughing. "Taught him well?! What did you teach him?!"

"Remember last term? He asked me if I could give him advice on how to ask out Clementine Bates? I'm like a matchmaker! Or a... a dating coach! Yeah, that's what I am, I'm a dating coach!"

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned over to Remus. "Yeah, a dating coach who can't even get the girl he's after," Sirius whispered into Remus's ear.

Sirius noticed that Remus didn't laugh at his remark, and instead, his entire body seemed to tense up. Sirius furrowed his brow. "Hey? Are you ok?"

"Huh? Oh - uh - yeah, yeah totally fine. Just - er - I think it's just gonna be a painful moon is all." Remus replied.

Sirius's concern tripled, and he instantly started piling Remus's plate with more food. "Well, come on Moony, you have to eat! James, tell Moony to eat so he feels better!"

James, who had been speaking to Peter about his new dating coach business, looked at Sirius. "What?"

"Tell Moony to eat so he feels better!"

James turned to Remus and gave him a stern gaze. "Remus Lupin, you need to eat so that you feel better."

"Ok mum," Remus replied, rolling his eyes and pushing his plate away. "Look, guys, I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Well, do you want us to come? It's a really long way to Gryffindor tower..." Sirius said, and he began standing up from the bench that he and Remus had been sharing.

"No, I'll be fine. See you lot later," and he walked out of the Great Hall without another word.

As soon as Remus had crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, Sirius turned to Peter and James. "We need to work on... _you know what_ , as soon as possible. I don't like Remus being in this much pain and having to face it alone during the full moon!"

"Yeah, Sirius, we don't either. But we haven't even found a book yet, have we?" James responded.

"Yeah, it sucks, but we can't really do anything without knowing how to do it," added Peter.

"Well then we figure out how to do it," Sirius said resolutely.

James rolled his eyes. "How? It's not like we just have a machine that will magically tell us what we need to know."

"Maybe not, but we have a whole bloody library full of books at our disposal!"

"We've already been through the whole library multiple times, and we didn't find anything." James said, and he took a bite of his turkey leg.

Sirius glanced 'round the table, making sure that no one was listening in, and he leaned closer to the two boys. "Not in the restricted section."

Regulus Black lay awake in his bed in the boys's dormitory.

He had read _The Art of Occlumency_ from cover to cover at least five times, and he still didn't find proper instructions on how to learn it. The book itself had mentioned another book, one titled _How to Close the Mind,_ multiple times; this was supposedly the book which held the instructions and steps on how to learn the skill.

He had asked Kreacher to search his mother's library no less than three times, and Kreacher came back empty handed every single one. The last time that he had asked Kreacher to do this was Wednesday night, and he hadn't called the house elf since.

It was as though Regulus had given up completely.

Severus Snape searching through Regulus's mind at dinner had given him a new determination to learn the skill. He needed to keep that greasy-haired half-blood out of his head. But the only other place that could possibly have the book that he was looking for, the only other place that he had access to, was the restricted section of the library.

Regulus began to form a plan.


	26. The Restricted Section

Hagrid was in his garden, tending to his crops. His bloodhound puppy, Fang, was jumping about, chasing a big blue butterfly that had gathered his attention by landing on one of Hagrid's ginormous pumpkins. Fang began yipping and yapping about, one of his big ears flipping onto his small head and getting stuck.

"Fang, yer a menace!" Hagrid said, using one of his dustbin-lid sized hands to right Fang's ear. The small puppy nipped cheerfully at Hagrid's fingers, and Hagrid let out a booming laugh that echoed all the way across the grounds.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hagrid?" a small voice rang across Hagrid's garden, and he looked up in surprise. Standing just beyond the small white picket fence that surrounded his garden, was Regulus Black.

"Oh, hello!" Hagrid said, and he quickly wiped the dirt from his hands onto his big shirt. "Gi'me just a minute," he hurriedly put away his gardening tools, almost knocking over his watering can and spilling it across the patch of carrots that he was growing.

When he finally looked up again, it was to see that Fang had somehow scaled the fence and was intently licking Regulus's hand. Regulus Black laughed and pet Fang, kneeling down so that he was closer to the small puppy in front of him.

"Fang! Sorry there," Hagrid stepped over the fence, which was quite short compared to the giant of a man, and looked down at the tiny boy before him.

Regulus stood up straight and looked at Hagrid. "Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering - do you - er - do you happen to know when Mr. Filch is... _busy_?"

"Busy?" Hagrid asked, his wooly dark brown eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Yeah. Like when he might not be checking the halls?" Regulus was absently picking at his nails and staring up at the giant groundskeeper with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Why do yeh need ter know?" Hagrid asked suspiciously.

Regulus felt the back of his neck flush, and he opened and closed his mouth multiple times - his resemblance to a fish was uncanny. "So - uh - so that - so..." he trailed off.

Hagrid waited patiently, and Fang jumped between the two happily, nipping at Regulus's hands playfully. "So that I can watch the halls for him," Regulus said suddenly.

"Watch 'em for him?"

"Yeah! I mean, if he's busy, he won't be able to stop kids from... from causing trouble in the halls, will he?"

Hagrid's face broke into a wide grin, and he patted Regulus firmly on the shoulder. The force of his 'pat' caused Regulus to stumble quite far to the left and almost fall on the ground. "That's mighty kind 'o 'ya, Regulus!"

"Thanks," Regulus said, reaching up and rubbing his shoulder gently with his right hand. "So, do you know when he'll be busy?"

Hagrid thought for a moment, and he absently brought one of his hands up to scratch his head. "I think Filch usually sleeps from one ter four in the mornin' on Sunday's."

"One to four on Sunday as in _on_ Sunday, like Sunday morning, or Monday morning?"

"On Sunday," Hagrid replied, nodding his head.

Regulus nodded and began backing away, back to the castle. "Ok! Thank you, Mr. Hagrid!" and he took off jogging.

"Yer welcome!" Hagrid shouted after him. "Hey, Fang, come back here!" the small puppy had taken off after Regulus, wanting to follow the small boy back to the castle.

Regulus stayed up that night mapping out a plan of action. He pretended to fall asleep at around seven that night, saying he was simply exhausted from his day (he had gone and joined Barty out on the grounds after his visit to Hagrid so as not to raise suspicion).

The other second years left the dorm room alone, not wanting to disturb the sleeping boy, which was exactly what Regulus had been hoping for. He took out _The Art of Occlumency_ and flipped through the pages, writing down any and every single other book that was mentioned within. If he was going to pull this off, he wanted to get everything he needed at one time. By the time he was finished with that, and with figuring out how exactly he was going to carry all of the books back without detection, get into the library without alerting anyone, and getting into the restricted section itself, the other boys had all come into the room (he had the curtains 'round his four-poster closed tight) and it was nearing one in the morning.

It was almost time.

Regulus shoved the list of books into his book bag and held his wand between his teeth, tugging open the dark green curtains around his bed.

The room was pitch black. Regulus listened very, very hard to the other boys's breathing, and was quite relieved to find that they were all leveled out. All of them were sleeping peacefully. He stepped onto the cold hardwood floor, and winced at the creek that emanated from the old floorboards.

None of the other boys even stirred at the sound.

Regulus shifted his feet to a different spot on the floor and leisurely shifted all of his weight onto them, standing up. It took a few minutes and a very calculated plan of movement, but Regulus eventually made it down to the empty common room.

Or, he _thought_ it would be empty.

Sitting by the fire, cross legged on the plush dark green rug, was Gillian Fairman. She was hunched over, and Regulus could see that she was fiddling with her fingers in her lap. He got so distracted by her presence in the room, that he accidentally bumped into one of the shelves to the right of the staircase.

He reached out a hand to steady it, and Gillian whipped around. "Oh," she said, noticing who it was that had walked into the common room. "It's you."

"Uh - yeah," Regulus shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Gillian turned back to the fire, though she switched her sitting position and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms 'round her legs. "What are you doing down here?"

"Uh - I was just... er..."

Gillian smirked to herself, and she looked over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sneaking out?"

"Uh..." Regulus didn't know whether he should tell her the truth or lie.

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Don't have my Prefect badge on, do I?"

Regulus nodded his head, and he adjusted the strap of his book bag on his shoulder. "What are _you_ doing down here?"

Gillian shrugged. "It's quiet down here. Quiet is nice, especially with everything going on right now."

"Everything?"

Gillian sighed and turned back to the fire. "I'm almost sixteen."

"Oh. Er - happy birthday?"

She chuckled and shook her head slowly. "Not for another few months, but it's coming up."

Regulus nodded. "Oh. Well, why is that a bad thing?"

Gillian sighed and pulled her knees closer to her chest. "I'm a pure-blood,"

"Yeah, I assumed as much," Regulus shrugged.

She looked at him over her shoulder again. "You know what happens at sixteen, right?"

Regulus furrowed his brow and shook his head.

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise. "Really?"

"Nope," Regulus was getting quite tired of standing, and so he walked over to the group of seats in front of the fire and sat in the plush chair to Gillian's left.

"Well, that's good I guess. Means they haven't chosen someone yet,"

" _Chosen_ someone? For what?"

"Well, for you to marry, of course."

It was Regulus's turn to raise his brows in surprise. " _Marry_?"

Gillian shrugged. "Bloodlines have to stay pure somehow. You'll probably end up marrying a distant cousin or something, that's what normally happens. Especially if they want you to marry within the sacred twenty-eight."

"But - but what if I don't want to?" Regulus knew that arranged marriages were a thing, of course. That's what had happened between Lucius and Narcissa and to his parents, at any rate. However, he had never really given any thought to himself. He couldn't even fathom the thought of marrying someone whom he didn't want to!

Gillian shrugged again. "You don't really have a choice. But don't worry, you won't be _officially promised_ to one another until you're both sixteen."

"So... so you're getting married when you turn sixteen?"

"Not married, no. But, I have to be promised to him." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's ridiculous, is what it is. I mean, Corban is an ok bloke, but he can be quite unbearable at times."

"Corban? Corban Yaxley? I thought you two were dating?"

"We are. Not because we want to, but because we thought it best that we get used to each other now rather than later. I've known he was the one I was to be marrying since I turned thirteen."

" _Thirteen_? That's... thirteen?" Regulus was almost thirteen! Would... would his parents be putting him into an arranged ruddy marriage _that young_?

"Well... it was between he and... and Carson."

"Carson Nott?"

Gillian nodded, and a small smile crossed her face. "Yeah. Carson Nott."

"I thought you didn't like Carson? I mean, you guys are mean to each other all the time?"

Gillian laughed and looked at Regulus with an amused expression. "Yeah, we are, aren't we? It's all in good fun," she waved a dismissive hand. "He's not _all bad_..."

Regulus recognized the lilt of adoration that was in her voice, and he cocked his head. "Do you like him?"

She hesitated for a moment, and then shook her head. "I can't."

"But do you?"

She sighed and unwrapped her arms from 'round her legs, stretching them out and standing up. "I'd better be off to bed. Let's not talk about this little chat, shall we?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, sure."

She gave him a smile, and then glanced at the common room door. "I'd hurry if I were you, never know when Filch is gonna be down to mop the dungeons," and she disappeared up the stairs to the girls's dormitories.

Regulus walked the empty halls of Hogwarts castle thinking about the conversation that he had just had with Gillian Fairman. This was the second conversation within the span of two weeks that he was keeping a secret.

Would his parents really put him into an _arranged marriage_? He had never thought about it before. He had never wanted to think about it before.

_No_ , he thought to himself, _no, I'm sure that if I just told mother and father that I didn't want to, they'd listen... right?_

Before he knew it, Regulus was at the doors leading into the library. He took a deep breath and glanced 'round himself, checking all of his surroundings before taking his wand out from behind his ear (he didn't even fully realize that he had been holding it there until he had to reach for it), and gently pressed the tip of it against the handle.

" _Alohamora_ ," he whispered.

Nothing happened.

Regulus's brows knit together, and he slipped his wand back behind his ear. Taking a deep breath, he reached out a trembling hand and grasped the door handle.

The door opened.

The door had already been unlocked.

Regulus waved this off - perhaps Madam Pince had simply had too much on her mind and forgotten to lock it - and stepped into the library.

It was dark, and the tall book cases looked rather ominous compared to how they did in the daytime. There were beams of moonlight flooding the room, streaming down from the high ceilinged windows which lined the walls. There were small dust motes floating in the beams, giving off the appearance of millions of tiny white specks.

Regulus drew his wand from behind his ear and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. " _Lumos_ ," he muttered, and the tip of his wand lit up, illuminating a small circle of an area with white wand light.

He made his way through the library slowly-but-surely, careful to avoid the piles of books that lined some of the shelves and walls because there wasn't enough space. Finally, he made it to the large door that led into the restricted section.

He held his wand between his teeth to keep the light in front of himself, and reached out a hand towards the small iron bar that held closed the restricted section door. Regulus had always questioned why the restricted section had such low security, but he just assumed it was because Madam Pince was quite determined that no one would ever get past without her permission.

The door creaked open, and Regulus recoiled at the sound, taking a few quick steps back. He grappled his wand from between his teeth and held it in front of himself. " _Nox_ ," he murmured, and the tip of his wand promptly went dark again.

Regulus was completely still, waiting in complete and utter silence for a few seconds. Once he was absolutely certain that no one else would come and reprimand him, he continued on into the room.

The restricted section looked quite similar to the rest of the library. There were tall bookcases that formed rows upon rows of books that the school didn't think safe for just any student to have access to. It was much darker in there than in the main part of library, for there were absolutely no windows. Regulus used the lighting charm to illuminate the tip of his wand once again, and he began his search.

He was looking for ten books, more or less, and it took him close to thirty minutes until he even found the first one. With a sigh, he slid the book into his book bag and turned around, starting down the next row of books.

Unlike the library itself, the restricted section didn't seem to be organized in any particular manner - it was as though the books were just thrown randomly on the shelves wherever they fit.

When Regulus had just slid the second book into his bag, he heard a loud thud emanating from a few rows down.

He froze.

He thought that he could hear frantic whispers, and he suddenly became quite aware of just how loud his breathing was. Regulus was about to b-line it for the door when he realized something. The whispers that he could hear were much too panicked to be a Professor.

Regulus furrowed his brow, and curiosity got the best of him.

He walked to the middle aisle that divided the rows of shelves, and he made his way towards the row that the noise was coming from. His footsteps were echoing off of the wood floor and down the rows, but he didn't give much mind to this - it wasn't as though whoever else was in here would get him in trouble.

All other noise ceased in the library for but-a-second, and the only sound was Regulus's suddenly very loud-sounding breathing, and the echo of his footsteps. Then, another loud thud, and the sound of crazed footsteps and shuffling.

Everything went silent again.

Regulus paused at the width of the shelf that lined the left side of the row, took a deep breath, and stepped into the thin aisle quickly.

No one was there.

Regulus frowned and walked down the row. He could've sworn that he had heard something down here.

Distracted, Regulus nearly tripped on a rather thick-looking book.

He managed to stop himself, and he picked up the book with a confused expression. _So You Want to Become an Animagus?_ Regulus mouthed the title as he read, and confusion seemed to grow at an exponential rate with every word that formed on his lips. _What the bloody hell is an Animagus?_ He held his wand between his teeth yet again and moved to open the front cover of the book when he heard the shuffling of feet.

He looked up quickly, causing a nerve to pinch in the back of his neck. He let out cry, and his hand flew up to the area that was suddenly burning beneath his skin. Nevertheless, he inched forward towards the strange sounds.

"Watch this," he heard someone say just above a breath.

Before Regulus could react to the disembodied voice, the unthinkable happened. It appeared that someone had lifted a sort of... cloak of some sort, and left behind the disembodied head of his older brother.

Regulus's jaw dropped, causing his wand to fall to the floor with a clatter, and he dropped the book that he had been holding. Regulus scrambled backwards, unable to make sounds, and the book bag slid off of his shoulder.

Sirius burst into laughter.

Regulus reached out a hand and clutched the bookshelf to his left, catching himself just before tripping on the strap of his fallen book bag. "What - how-" Regulus was absolutely baffled.

Sirius tugged off the rest of whatever had been covering him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh come on, you little baby, it wasn't even that scary," Sirius rolled his eyes and quickly picked the thick book up from the ground.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WASN'T THAT SCARY? YOUR HEAD WAS FLOATING IN THE BLOODY AIR!" Regulus shouted, and his voice carried all throughout the room.

"Yeah, Sirius, give him a break. You had a pretty similar reaction when I showed you the cloak for the first time, don't forget," another disembodied voice came from the air behind Sirius, and Regulus whipped his head towards it in fear.

Sirius's head also snapped in that direction, but he looked at the empty air with a look of irritation. "Shut up, I did not!"

"Did too!"

Regulus's jaw was practically dislocated with how far it had been dropped.

"Ok, well what about Pete! He had a worse reaction than me! Kid practically wet himself!"

"Hey!" a third incorporeal voice.

"Peter's not the one making fun of someone else being scared by it!"

Sirius rolled his eyes yet again, and he glanced back at Regulus. His irritation was taken over by amusement, and he burst into laughter yet again. "Merlin, Regulus, you should see your face!"

"YOU'RE TALKING TO A BUNCH OF PEOPLE WITHOUT BODIES!" Regulus shouted in his defense, and Sirius began to laugh harder.

"We have bodies," the second voice called, and a silvery cloak the texture of water was suddenly dropped to the floor, revealing James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.

Regulus stared at the cloak in amazement, and then looked between the three older boys. Sirius was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, shaking his head.

"But - how?" Regulus asked as James Potter gingerly picked the cloak up from the ground and shoved it into the bag at his hip.

"None of your business," Sirius said, his voice suddenly cold again. "What the bloody hell are you doing in here, anyways?"

Regulus reached down and picked his book bag up from the ground, slipping the strap onto his shoulder. "Oh, huh, I wonder what one would be doing in a room full of books. Perhaps, oh, I don't know, looking for a book?"

Sirius glared at him. James laughed. Peter looked uncomfortably between his two friends. "What book are you looking for in the restricted section? Something for your precious little Dark Lord?"

Regulus was silent a moment. "What?" He could feel a flush creeping up the back of his neck, and his entire body seemed to tense up instantly. Sirius didn't know... right? Surely, he couldn't know... right?

"Ok, what then, is it for mummy dearest?"

Regulus felt relief wash over him - _Sirius_ _didn't know_.

"No, you dolt. It's none of your ruddy business anyways," Regulus started forward and scooped his wand up from the ground. When he straightened up again, it was to find that he was suddenly within three feet of his brother and his friends.

"It is my business, you prat. I'm your _older brother_ , so I have a right to know."

"Could've fooled me," Regulus said in a hard tone of voice.

Everyone went silent. The tension was practically radiating from the two brothers, and Peter and James both shifted uncomfortably.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius snapped.

Regulus threw up his hands in an 'I surrender' sort of manner, and took a few slow steps back. "Nothing."

Regulus spun around and disappeared from the sight of the other three boys, book bag hitting his hip with every step and wand clutched in his right hand.

The other three boys were completely silent as he rounded the corner of the book cases. Suddenly, Sirius turned 'round to face his two mates. "What was that supposed to mean?"

James side-eyed Peter, and then looked back to Sirius. "I think it meant what you think it meant," he said quietly.

Sirius furrowed his brow and glanced over his shoulder at the place where Regulus had been. Peter and James looked at one another, a shared sympathy in their eyes.

Regulus left the restricted section. Yes, he had only gotten two of the books, but that was enough for him - he needed to get out of the library. It was only when he reached the main corridors of the castle that he allowed thoughts to slip into his mind.

He was shocked at the words that he had said to Sirius. If he didn't know any better, he might've assumed that they had been said by someone else instead of him. He didn't know what had brought him to say it, but whatever it was, it came as a bittersweet-realization to him. Did he really feel like that?

No, he didn't... did he?

Regulus was so deep in thought about the whole thing, that he didn't even hear the giggling and hushed voices that he was quickly approaching. He rounded a corner and nearly ran smack into two people.

"Oh, sorry," he muttered, and he rushed past the two people without another word. He didn't even look at who it was.

"What was that about?" Alice Fortescue asked, watching the retreating back of Regulus Black.

Frank Longbottom shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno," he turned from Regulus back to Alice, and a small smirk played on his lips. "Where were we?"

Regulus returned to the common room to find it completely empty. He sighed in relief, and dropped heavily into the same chair that he had been sitting in mere hours before. He glanced up at the clock on the wall as he released his book bag to the floor. It was a quarter to four in the morning.

With a sigh, he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Regulus Black drifted off to sleep in the common room that night, letting everything that he had heard and seen in the past three hours slowly slip his mind.


	27. Black Family Letters

Regulus Black's mattress had three strange lumps in it.

Regulus was quite unbothered by this, for he knew _why_ they were there. Barty, however, didn't.

The two boys were sitting cross legged on Regulus's bed, working on the Transfiguration essay that they had been assigned that very day. He was shifting uncomfortably every few seconds, which quickly became quite distracting to Regulus.

After the sixth time that Barty had shifted his seating position, Regulus glanced at him through his dark eyelashes, and then looked back at his essay.

"Everything alright?" he asked, resting his elbow on his bed and pressing his right cheek against his palm, rereading a paragraph from their textbook.

"Why does your mattress have all these weird lumps?" Barty inquired, running his palm over the lump in Regulus's mattress that was causing him to sit at an odd angle.

Regulus glanced at the lump that he was referring to, and knew immediately which of the three Occlumency books was hidden there. Regulus shrugged.

"Dunno, been like that since last year," he scribbled a transition sentence from his last paragraph to his next.

"Really? We did homework here last year, and it wasn't like this,"

Regulus shrugged again, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Instead of answering, he shifted his face so that the base of his palm was pressed against his chin, and began biting his nails.

Barty turned back to his essay without further investigation, though Regulus noticed that he had moved a few inches to the left so as to be clear of the strange lump.

It was the second Monday of term, the day after Regulus had made his late night trip to the library. He hadn't found the time to read the books that he had borrowed yet, so he had just shoved them beneath his mattress and tried to keep them from his mind whenever he was near Severus Snape.

Regulus knew that, eventually, he would have to sneak back to the restricted section of the library for the rest of the books. However, he wouldn't even be able to until the following Sunday, so he tried his best not to worry. He also simply didn't want to give the restricted section any thought. Not only could Severus Snape find out about it by prying into Regulus's thoughts, but Regulus was still quite dismayed by what had happened between he and his brother.

Regulus was afraid to dwell on the thought, because he knew that he would be overcome by a sense of guilt. Of course Sirius was still his older brother! Right?

_Yes, of course! That's literally what Narcissa and I talked about over the summer!_

_Narcissa._

_"If you ever want to speak about it, you can always owl me, just so you know," Narcissa had said after she and Regulus's chat in the garden of Malfoy Manor._

Regulus needed to write to Narcissa.

His Transfiguration essay suddenly didn't seem that important.

"Hey, I - uh - I think I'm gonna go to the library to get another book," Regulus said, and he got off of the bed in one swift motion.

"Another book? For what?" Barty asked, looking up from his essay and slowly putting down his quill.

"This. The essay. I'm gonna get another book for it. More information, you know," he gave Barty a smile that he hoped would be seen as reassuring, and promptly put on his shoes.

"Oh, ok. Do you want me to come with you?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, no that's fine. I'll just be a minute. Or a few minutes. Dunno how long it'll take me to find it,"

"Ok..." Barty sounded unsure, but he hesitantly turned back to his essay nonetheless.

Regulus reached the library within minutes.

Though, instead of turning to the Transfiguration section to find more books on the subject of their essay, he sat down at a small table in the corner. Most of the tables in this section of the library were used specifically for students who were either writing letters or taking notes, so there were always spare bits of parchment, pots of ink, and quills in the middle of the table.

Regulus pulled a slip of parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink towards himself, and he began scribbling away. It took him around ten minutes to write the full letter, but he got it done without interruption. When he was finally finished, he lifted the parchment from the table and blew on it gently to dry the ink, reading it over.

_Narcissa,_   
_Hope you're doing well. How's living at the Manor? It must be wonderful there, it seems like quite a nice place to live._   
_I actually wrote to you because I wanted to talk. I ran into Sirius in the library, and I said something really awful to him. We were arguing because I didn't want to tell him what I was looking for, and he said that 'he was my older brother, so it's his business'._   
_I said 'could've fooled me'. I don't think I meant it, but it just sort of... came out. I've tried not to think about it since because, well, I feel really bad about it. I don't think that I can apologize, Narcissa. I don't... I don't know if I want to. If I do, I feel like he'll think that I'm lying to him. I mean, I don't even know if I meant what I said!_   
_Have you ever said anything like this to Andromeda? What did you do?_   
_Please respond as quickly as possible._

_R.A.B_

Regulus very carefully folded the letter, and looked 'round the library. There was a small table in the very corner with envelopes, though there was no way to seal them. He slipped the letter gingerly into the envelope, and held the flap of it closed with his thumb. He needed to find something to seal it without returning to the dorm room just yet.

He traced the spines of books with his fingers as he walked down the aisles of shelves, looking for a sticker or anything that may be attached to one. Luckily, there was a rather infamous children's book towards the back of the library, which had a small sticker stuck to the cover.

He thought that Narcissa would probably be right confused that a small dragon sticker was holding closed the letter, but it was the best he could do.

He promptly left the library, not even noticing the eyes of his brother and the other three Gryffindor's as he darted past their table.

"What's he up to?" Sirius asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes and staring after Regulus.

The other three shrugged. "Dunno, Sirius. Probably just working on homework," James said, and he turned back to the Quidditch magazine that he was searching through.

"He was writing a letter," Sirius reminded him.

"He was probably just writing to your parents," Peter suggested.

It was obvious to the other three that Sirius didn't truly believe this, but none of them knew what else to say.

The path to the owlery was quite a winding and bumpy one, with large rocks and roots that obstructed it. He had to walk warily so as not to trip, but he made it to the large cobblestone tower nonetheless.

It smelled absolutely atrocious inside.

A small cloud of dust was kicked up with every step that he took across the dirt floor, and he had to hold his head at an angle so that he could breathe without his lungs filling with dust. He looked up through the wooden rafters of the tower, and his eyes met those of hundreds of owls, all staring down at him.

He studied them for a moment, and then pointed to a rather small and fast looking one. "You," the owl swooped down from the rafters and landed on Regulus's outstretched arms, their talons clutching to the sleeve of Regulus's jacket.

He smiled and reached out his right pointer finger, gently stroking the owl's head. The owl hooted in appreciation and snuggled closer to Regulus's hand, pressing the top of their head entirely into his palm. Regulus rubbed the space between their eyes with his thumb - he knew that the Black family owl, Achilles, quite liked when Regulus would pet him there.

After a few moments of silence, Regulus withdrew his hand from owl and held out the letter. The owl eyed it carefully, and then rotated their head so that they were looking directly at Regulus. "I need you to take this to Narcissa Black - er, _Narcissa Malfoy_ , at Malfoy Manor. Get there as quickly as possible, please," the owl gave a hoot of understanding, and Regulus tied the letter to their leg.

Thursday morning at breakfast, that same owl came swooping down through the high-ceilinged windows of the Great Hall. They stopped on the table in front of Regulus, and held out their leg with a sort of pride about themself - that owl had gotten _all the way_ to Malfoy Manor and returned within _three days time_.

Regulus untied the letter carefully from the owl's leg and read the envelope:

_Regulus Black_   
_The Great Hall_   
_Hogwarts_

Barty read the envelope, too, and he looked at Regulus with curiosity clear on his face. "Who's that from?"

"My parents, I suppose," Regulus replied with a shrug, but inside, he was absolutely beaming _._ It had to have been from Narcissa!

Regulus felt it. The prying and prodding in his mind - through his thoughts. He looked down the table with a scowl on his face, and met the dark eyes of Severus Snape.

Regulus rolled his eyes and stood from the table. "Hey, I'll meet you in History of Magic," he said to Barty, and he swung his book bag over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Barty asked, taking another bite from the stack of Belgium waffles on his plate.

"Library. I'd better respond to this before class," he held up the letter.

Barty nodded and turned back to the table, immediately joining in on a conversation between Crabbe and Goyle.

Regulus was so caught up in trying to get to the library as quickly as possible, that he didn't even notice when Evan Rosier stood from the table and began to follow him.

He didn't wait until he got to the library to rip open the envelope. He slid his thumb underneath the flap on the back, breaking the wax seal that had been pressed with the Malfoy family crest (so she really _was_ a Malfoy now). The letter inside had been folded neatly, and Regulus recognized the spindly and neat handwriting as his cousin's at once.

_Regulus,_   
_I have been doing quite well. Yes, the Manor is quite a lovely place to live (personally, I enjoy spending the afternoons in the flower garden out back, it's quite lovely in the daytime)._   
_I do not know how to help with your problem. I have never said anything like that to Andromeda, but the fact that we have rarely spoken at all in the past few years surely accounts for that. If I were you, Regulus, I would ignore him. You're going to have to get used to not speaking to him, and if you do talk to him, you risk making things much worse._   
_I'm sorry if this doesn't help, but it's the only advice that I can offer. Have a good term, Regulus. I hope to see you at Christmas._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Regulus crossed the threshold into the library as soon as he had finished reading the letter. He sat down at the same small table in the corner, and he pulled a bit of parchment towards himself. He went to write a response, but he paused.

What was he supposed to say?

He couldn't exactly ask Narcissa anything else about it, for she obviously didn't have the answers he was looking for.

So _who would_?

He wrote the name at the top of the parchment before he could even fully comprehend it. He stared in surprise at the name that he had written down. He hadn't even considered writing to them! But, it all just... made sense. He scribbled down the letter faster than he had ever written to anyone before; it was as though there was a smooth and direct connection from his mind to his hand - one that had always been blocked until now.

_Andromeda,_   
_How have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while. Well, I know why and everything, I guess._   
_I know that you're probably quite shocked that I'm writing to you (honestly, I am too), but I had a question. Sirius was sorted Gryffindor (as I'm sure you know; you were in seventh year when he started, yeah?) and ever since, mother and father have practically disowned him (I'm sorry if being disowned is a sore subject for you, I didn't really think about that)._   
_Anyways, Sirius and I haven't really been getting along since then. Mother and father tell me that I should hate him, and I know that I should listen to them, but a part of me still misses him. Just like a part of me still misses you._   
_We haven't really talked much since he left for Hogwarts, though. In total, we've probably had no more than ten conversations. He mostly just says mean things to me, and I say mean things back, or we ignore each other completely. I wish it wasn't this way, but I can't see it changing anytime soon. There's a lot of things that, if Sirius ever found out about, I'm sure he'd hate me forever for._   
_I ran into him and a few of his friends in the library the other night. We were all in there after hours, and I didn't even know that they were there. I didn't want to tell Sirius what I was looking for, but he said that 'it's his business because he's my older brother' and I said 'could've fooled me'. I don't think that I meant it. I don't think that I feel like that towards him. Of course he's still my brother!_   
_I don't know what to do. I've just been avoiding him since, and he hasn't actively tried to speak to me, either. I just thought I'd write you and see if maybe you had any ideas for what I should do? Should I keep ignoring him? Should I apologize?_   
_Please let me know._   
_I miss you._

_R.A.B_

Regulus read the letter over, and he heaved a deep sigh - this was possibly the most dangerous letter that he had ever written. Of course, the contents of the letter themselves weren't the dangerous part (well, they sort of were; he couldn't even fathom how his parents would feel if they read it), but it was who he was writing it to.

Andromeda had been disowned for nearly two years now - she was no longer a part of the Black family. Writing to her could be seen as... well, betrayal. He couldn't imagine how the rest of the family would feel if they knew about him writing to her...

He suddenly thought twice about sending it.

What if the letter was somehow intercepted? What if the owl got confused and accidentally delivered it to Narcissa, or worse, _Bellatrix_. Would Regulus be disowned to?

"Whatcha got there, Black?" a malicious voice caused Regulus to jump and promptly shove the letter deep into the pocket of his robes. He stood up and spun 'round to find none other than Evan Rosier staring at him with a rather psychotic sneer on his face.

"What do you want, Rosier?" Regulus snarled, and he quickly slung his book bag onto his shoulder.

Evan eyed Regulus up and down with an amused smirk. "Just wondering what you were rushing from the Great Hall to do,"

"It's none of your bloody business."

"If you say so," Evan threw his hands up in front of himself, but the hostile air didn't clear.

Regulus took a few quick steps forward and gave Evan his most intense glare; he was mere inches from the other boy's face. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Will do," Evan responded.

Regulus narrowed his eyes and sniffed, backing away from Rosier. Without another word, Regulus Black rushed from the library - he had done what he had come for.

Evan Rosier stared malevolently at Regulus's retreating back. _Writing to his disowned, blood traitor cousin_ , Evan thought to himself, _better add that to the list_.

"What list?"

Rosier looked over his shoulder, and immediately met eyes with Severus Snape. "What?" he was quite alarmed - _how did Snape know about his list_? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me, Rosier. I can see it in that weak little mind of yours," Snape said coldly.

Now that he had mentioned it, Evan did notice a rather odd feeling inside of his head... "What are you doing? How are you doing that?"

Severus waved a dismissive hand. "So, you have a list of things about Regulus Black? What, are you starting a fan club?"

"No, I'm collecting things to use against him, you barmy idiot."

"When are you ever going to need to use something against him?" Severus sounded quite skeptical.

Rosier shrugged. "Dunno, do I? But, I'd like to have a firing wall ready for when I do."

Severus nodded his head slowly, studying Rosier warily with narrowed eyes. "Well, you're in luck, Evan," he brushed the front of his tattered robes, and a small smirk quirked the edges of his mouth. "I happen to be in exactly the same boat."

Regulus sent out the letter late that night.

He used the same owl, and as it swept over the deep purple, orange, and pink horizon, Regulus came to regret his decision. Sure, he wanted to hear how to possibly fix things with Sirius, but he wasn't sure that writing to Andromeda was exactly the right approach.

Who knew if she could even give him any useful information! As far as Regulus knew, things between he and Sirius would never be the same again.

Regulus didn't know if he wanted them to ever be the same again.

_I do. I want to be close with Sirius again._

_No I don't._

_Mother and father don't want me to, but_ I do _._

_No. I. Don't._

It was Sunday afternoon.

Regulus and Barty were sitting together at the tree by the Black Lake, writing their Defense essay that was due the next day. Regulus took a break from writing and let out a sigh, glancing 'round the grounds.

Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James were all sitting at a tree - very similar to the one which Barty and Regulus were at - quite far away. Sirius was dangling by his knees off of one of the lowest branches, James was playing catch-and-release with a Snitch (this reminded Regulus of Quidditch tryouts, and he assured himself that he would find time to practice), Remus was lounging on the grass, staring at the clouds above him, and Peter was working on what appeared to be an essay. Under yet another tree - though this one was no where near the lake - Francesco Anderson and Lennox Wright appeared to be having a sort of make-shift picnic. Lottie Burton, Clementine Bates, and a few other girls who Regulus didn't recognize were all sitting around in a sunny patch of grass, surrounded by tiny yellow flowers, looking over a magazine that Lottie had received by owl earlier that day. The final thing that Regulus noticed about the grounds was Benjamin Stone, Deacon Ackland, Emerson Reid, and another boy, all sitting at a small table in the shadows of the castle, chatting away. Other than those groups, there were just other students wandering around or sitting down in clusters, all whom Regulus did not recognize.

Regulus reached his hands up into the air and stretched, yawning and relishing the stretch of the muscles between his shoulders. He leaned his head back against the bark of the tree, staring at the way the sunlight broke through the tree branches above him and created a sort of kaleidoscope effect on the green grass below. He reached to his side and plucked a small white clover that had been growing in patches of weeds surrounding the trunk.

He turned it over between his fingers, twisting the stem and watching the small white cluster of tiny petals move through the air. The twisting of the stem between his fingers caused it to break open, and a small amount of juice seeped out.

He dropped the flower and wiped his hand on his trousers, looking at the passing clouds - he could've sworn that one of them was shaped like a dog. He smiled and studied the way that the sun reflected off of the greenery of the grounds, and made the small pops of color that came with the flowers that littered the grass pop that much more.

It was a beautiful day.

He was just glancing over the top of the forbidden forest when an owl broke over. He immediately used his palms to push himself up, pressing his entire back against the bark instead of just the space between his shoulder blades.

As the owl got closer, he recognized it.

It was the owl he had sent to Andromeda.

Regulus stood up from the ground, and Barty looked up from his essay. "What are you doing?"

Regulus pointed at the owl, which was flying steadily closer. "My cou - er - my _parents_ , wrote me back."

The owl reached Regulus in no time, and he held out his arm for it to land on. He quickly untied the letter, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and gently stroked the feathers of the owl. "Thanks," he murmured, and the owl hooted their appreciation.

The owl took off flying back towards the owlery, and Regulus dropped back to the ground. The tree that he was sitting beneath had a perfect little gap in the roots that provided a comfortable seating space. He took the envelope from his pocket.

_Regulus Black_   
_The Tree by the Black Lake_   
_Hogwarts_

Regulus turned it over, and he studied the seal with which the wax had been pressed. It wasn't a family crest of any sort, it was just a very spindly, elegant _A_. He took a deep breath, slid his thumb beneath the seal, and pulled out the folded parchment within, as well as something else that he quickly stowed behind the letter before beginning to read:

_Dearest Regulus,_   
_I am so happy to hear from you! I'll be honest, I was quite shocked to receive your letter. I have been doing wonderfully. Ted and I bought this little home, and oh Regulus, it's just lovely! I've actually been meaning to tell you, Sirius, Cissy, and Bella something, but I didn't know how to tell you lot (to be honest, I wasn't exactly sure that any of you would care). Ted and I had a daughter. Her name is Nymphadora Tonks. She's a Metamorphmagus, and she is just absolutely lovely! She just turned four months old, and she is just darling (I have enclosed a picture of the three of us, in case you were interested in seeing your new cousin)._   
_Enough about me, let's talk about you._   
_I am very sorry to hear about you and Sirius, you two were always so close when you were kids. I never considered the fact that one day, something would come between the two of you. Well, I did at times, but never to this extent. You two have barely even talked, you say? That's awful, Reg, I am terribly sorry._   
_As for what you said to Sirius, if Cissy or Bella had said that to me, I wouldn't take it to heart. Especially if the two of you hadn't been getting along. I don't think that it's something that you two will never be able to recover from, but that's just my personal opinion._   
_Apologize to him, Reg. Nothing will ever be fixed between the two of you if you don't apologize. I know that it seems impossible for the two of you to ever be close again right now, but hopefully you'll move past it. You two were practically inseparable when you were younger, and you still share that same bond. Just give it time - I can't promise that it will ever regrow, but one can hope._   
_What do you mean there are things that you don't think Sirius will ever forgive you for? Regulus, darling, please tell me you aren't involved in all of the politics happening in the world right now. You're far too young, and (no offense), far too naive to pick a side yet._   
_I've missed you too, Regulus. Hopefully we will be able to see one another again soon._   
_I hope everything works out with Sirius._

_With love,_   
_Andromeda Tonks_

Regulus put the letter aside, and he stared at the picture that Andromeda had sent him.

Her light brown hair was pulled into a plait that draped over her shoulder, and she had on the brightest smile that Regulus had ever seen her wear. Ted Tonks was standing beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulder, absolutely beaming at the little girl that was being held between them. Nymphadora was a small little thing with pudgy hands and chubby cheeks. In the timeframe that the photograph had been taken, Nymphadora's hair had changed from a bright blue, to a sunshine yellow, to lime green, and finished on a cherry red. She was pulling on her mother's hair with one hand, and clutching the fabric of her father's jacket with the other. They were standing in front of a rather cozy looking home, with planter boxes that were absolutely full of flowers lining the porch behind them.

They looked happy.

Regulus held the photograph tightly between his two hands and glanced up, looking directly at the four Gryffindor third years. Sirius was sitting properly on the branch, ripping off leaves and small twigs from above him and throwing them at his other three friends. They were all laughing, and Remus Lupin had just begun throwing small pebbles right back at Sirius.

Regulus Black allowed the things that Andromeda had said to process through his mind. Could he and Sirius ever be truly close again?

A voice in the back of his head was screaming no, that he and Sirius could never be truly friends again, but his heart was hoping for the answer to be yes. He closed his eyes and shoved the letter, along with the family photo, into his pocket. It was as though the voice in his head was the voice of his parents - of the _Dark Lord_ \- and the feeling in his heart was that of Andromeda.

Regulus didn't know who to listen to.


	28. Excuse Me, Mr. James, Sir?

Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin all sat in the Gryffindor common room. Remus and Peter were both sitting on the floor, backs pressed against the couch, while James and Sirius were lounging across the couch itself.

The common room was quite busy, and there were several groups of people strewn throughout.

Sirius, though, had something on his mind.

"Just let it go, Sirius," James muttered, discreetly going over the notes that they had taken for how exactly to make the Animagus potion - he kept glancing at Remus through his wire-frame glasses to be sure he wasn't catching on.

"I can't!" Sirius exclaimed, and he sprawled his limbs out even further. His right leg was now on James's lap, left leg between Peter and Remus, left arm draped next to Remus's left shoulder, and right arm bent across his face. "Who the bloody hell is the little blighter writing to!"

"Dunno, do we Sirius?" Remus mumbled, scrawling out another sentence of his Care of Magical Creatures essay (they had to write an essay on how to differentiate a Kneazle from an everyday cat).

Sirius let out a very dramatic groan. "He has to be doing something suspicious!"

"He could just be writing to his parents," Peter added, making up a fake dream and scribbling it down on his dream journal for Divination.

"BUT HE'S NOT!" several other heads in the common room turned to the four boys, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. "You expect me to believe that he just so happened to be in the restricted section of the library for innocent reasons? They keep all the dark magic books in there! He was probably looking up how to cast the bloody Unforgivables!"

"You were in there for an innocent reason, weren't you?" Remus asked, turning away from his essay and craning his neck to look at Sirius. In truth, the other three wouldn't tell Remus exactly what they had been doing there - if Sirius hadn't been complaining so much about seeing Regulus in there, Remus suspected that they never would have told him at all.

"Well, yeah, but we aren't a bunch of Slytherin's!"

"There can be good Slytherin's," Remus said, and he turned back to his essay.

Sirius scoffed. "Like who?"

"Didn't Francesco say that Professor Bell was in Slytherin?" James inquired.

Sirius waved a dismissive hand at his best mate. "Come on, he wasn't a real Slytherin. He's just... he's one of the good ones! Like Andromeda!"

"Andromeda? Your cousin?" Remus asked, shifting his gaze from his essay to the textbook.

"Yes, who else? She was always one of the good ones. Haven't heard from her in a while... I should write to her."

"Yeah, you should, then you can bore her with all of your stupid theories about your brother," James mocked.

Sirius kicked him. "They aren't stupid, they're valid ruddy concerns! Who is he writing to, why was he in the restricted section, why was he trying on my stupid tie at the end of the summer, and why is he so bloody insufferable? All logical questions, if you ask me."

"We didn't ask you," piped up Peter, and Remus let out a choking laughter.

Sirius kicked Peter in the back of the head. "You guys are a bunch of ruddy bullies! I don't even know why I'm friends with you lot!"

The other three began to laugh, and Sirius couldn't help but join in.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. James, sir?" a small voice broke the boys out of their laughter, and they all looked up to see a rather awkward looking Deacon Ackland standing in front of them.

"Hey Deacon! What's up?" James asked (in his head, he was really hoping that he had gotten his name right).

"I - er - can I ask you something?" Deacon shifted nervously, and he kept stealing glances at something behind the couch.

Sirius craned his neck to see what he was looking at, and was met with the sight of the other second years. Francesco and Lottie were chatting away happily, but Benji was looking at Deacon with an unreadable expression. Curiously, Sirius turned back to the smaller boy.

"Sure! What's up?" James questioned.

Deacon's eyes flitted to the other three boys in turn, which James noticed. "Oh, right, ok."

James pushed Sirius's leg off of his lap ("Hey!" Sirius protested, and his leg ended up draped over Peter's right shoulder) and stood up. He brushed off the front of his clothes and gestured towards the portrait hole. "Let's step outside, shall we?"

Deacon nodded in agreement, shot one last glance at the table in the corner (Francesco had now turned his attention back to Deacon, and was giving him a thumbs up), and then followed James Potter out into the empty corridor beyond. It was ten o'clock at night, so the students technically weren't supposed to be out of their common rooms at all. For this reason, the dark hall was completely and utterly silent.

James made sure that the portrait hole was securely closed, led Deacon a few feet away just in case someone was listening in on the other side, and then promptly turned to the boy with a friendly smile. "What can I do for you?"

The nervousness that Deacon had been feeling returned, and he fiddled with his fingers to relieve some of his stress. Ever since Deacon had told Francesco that he was considering asking out Clementine (of course, he really wasn't. He had just said that to keep Francesco as far off of the trail of who Deacon really liked as possible), Francesco had been badgering him to make his move. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had Herbology together, and Francesco would constantly make remarks to Deacon about how he should do it 'sooner rather than later'. Tired of it, Deacon decided that he would do the one thing he could: make Francesco think that Deacon was taking action.

This is where James Potter came in.

James stared patiently at the boy, recognizing the look of debate and consideration that was reflected in the warm torchlight that illuminated his pale face. Finally, Deacon spoke.

"Francesco said that you... helped him?" Deacon was choosing his words quite carefully.

James cocked his head. "Helped him?"

"With - er - with asking out Clementine Bates?"

James's face broke into a wide grin, and his glasses fell slightly askew. "Well, why didn't you say so! So, who's the lucky girl?"

Deacon was silent.

James was patient.

"Clementine," Deacon finally said, just above a breath.

James got the odd sense that Clementine Bates definitely wasn't who the boy was really interested in, but he played along nonetheless - more than anything, he didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"I would suggest just being yourself. Girls like when you're yourself. Don't try to be all big and flashy and egotistical - just be whoever you are when you aren't around anyone else. That's what'll really get her attention."

Deacon was quite amused by this answer. It was common knowledge that James Potter liked Lily Evans, and he certainly was never himself around her. In fact, he was exactly what he had told Deacon not to be - big, flashy, and unbearably egotistical.

"Thank you," he said. He didn't intend on ever using this advice - it wasn't like he would ever truly find someone who he could use it on without scaring them away - but it was still greatly appreciated.

"Anytime," James said, and he threw his arm 'round Deacon's shoulders as though the two of them had been mates all their lives.

The two boys walked back to the portrait hole in silence, just enjoying one another's company. When they reached the couch where James's friends were still seated, James withdrew his arm from around Deacon's narrow shoulders and watched the boy hastily join his friends again. James sat down on the couch with a sigh.

"What did he want?" Sirius asked, peering over the very top of the couch towards the cluster of second years.

James shrugged. "Top secret."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, but he didn't push it - he knew quite well just how intent the marauders were on keeping others's secrets.

Regulus Black was sitting against the wall in one of the empty corridors of the castle, reading one of the Occlumency books intently. He was hiding in a small nook just behind one of the suits of armor, so that if any of the Professors or Prefects came by, they wouldn't see him.

He had his knees bent, book rested on his legs, flipping through the pages. He mouthed the words as he read; he had always found that this technique helped him absorb what he was reading much better.

Though, he was quickly interrupted from his reading when he heard a particularly familiar voice coming down the hall. Regulus furrowed his brows and dog-eared the page he was on, closing the book quickly. He pressed his back firmly against the cold stone wall behind him and used his legs to slide himself up into a standing position. Peeking out from behind the suit of armor, his suspicions were quickly confirmed.

What on earth was Sirius doing in the halls at this time of night?

Sirius wasn't even trying to be quiet! He was just clutching an oddly large sheet of parchment in his hands (actually, it looked like multiple pieces of parchment that had been strategically folded together), and mumbling something to himself.

He stopped dead in his tracks, and, much to Regulus's horror, looked directly at where Regulus was hidden.

Regulus quickly ducked back into the shadows behind the suit of armor, pressing himself against the wall as flat as he possibly could. He breathed as shallowly as possible, closing his eyes and trying to remain completely and utterly silent.

"Come out, you idiot, I know you're behind there," Sirius said, and Regulus felt his stomach drop.

Regulus didn't move.

Sirius sighed and walked over to the suit of armor, stopping directly in front of it. "If you aren't going to come out, I'll just go get Filch and see what he has to think about you being here."

Regulus sighed and stepped out into the hall, clutching the Occlumency book to his chest and glaring at his brother. "How the bloody hell did you know I was there?"

Sirius kept a stone cold expression on his face as he replied. "I could smell you."

Regulus felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck. "Shut up! You did not!"

"I did, Regulus. You should really shower."

"I took a shower two hours ago!"

Sirius shrugged. "You surely don't smell like it."

Regulus huffed, and he started past his brother. Honestly, could Sirius be more annoying? However, Sirius stopped him.

"Who have you been writing to?"

Regulus was quite taken aback by the question. Not only did this mean that Sirius had been paying enough attention to Regulus to notice that he had been writing to someone, but this also meant that he cared enough to ask.

"Why do you care?" was the only response that Regulus could come up with.

Sirius was about to say, 'because I'm your brother', but he thought better of it. "Because, I didn't know that there were people willing to write to an annoying prat like you."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Nice insult. You're definitely getting better at them," his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Sirius was quickly becoming irritated with Regulus, and he wanted nothing more than to leave. Though, he was overcome by a sense of curiosity as to just who Regulus was writing to, and he wasn't willing to leave until he got his answer.

"So who was it? Mother? Father? Ol' Voldy?"

Regulus sighed, and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "It's none of your ruddy business."

"Really sounds like you have something to hide, Regulus."

"I don't have anything to hide!" Regulus sounded too insistent. Suspiciously insistent.

"JUST TELL ME WHO IT IS!"

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR CONCERN WHO I'VE BEEN WRITING TO!"

"IF YOU AREN'T HIDING ANYTHING, THEN JUST TELL ME!"

"I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU ANYTHING!"

"Who's there?"

A voice broke the two brothers out of their shouting match, and fear cascaded down both of their bodies like a waterfall. Filch rounded the corner before either of them could even think to run away.

Thinking fast, both of them shoved what they had been holding into the space behind the suit of armor before Filch could see, and they looked at one another in surprise.

"AHA! SIRIUS BLACK! Can't get away from me this time... TWO Sirius Black's? It must be my lucky day! Come with me!" Filch was beaming with pride at his most recent catch, and he grabbed both boys roughly by their arms and dragged them violently towards his office.

Regulus could feel Sirius's glare on the side of his face the entire time, but he didn't dare look over.

Filch's office was possibly the most depressing room in the entirety of the castle. It was small, as small as Regulus's dorm room down in the Slytherin common room, and was as dark as the dungeons. The only light was that of a small lamp on Filch's desk, and two torches that were lit on either side of his door. The floor was made of stone, and there was a dingy, moldy looking carpet that covered the area beneath his old desk. The desk itself was no less presentable. It was absolutely covered in stacks of papers, files, and the drawers that lined either side of the desk by where he sat were overflowing with confiscated objects. The walls were lined in filing cabinets, all of which were overflowing with papers (it appeared that they must've still had files in them from the 1800's!).

Regulus sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs on the opposite side of the desk as Filch, picking anxiously at the skin 'round his fingernails. Filch was happily scribbling away at two small notecards.

"Out of bed after hours... yelling in the halls... refusing to cooperate..." he mumbled.

"Hey! We cooperated!" Regulus protested.

"Give it a break, Regulus, the old coot's not gonna budge. He's far too proud of himself. I can see why! Catching two students out of bed after hours? Phew! You should be glad he's writing on a notecard instead of sending us straight to Azkaban!" Sirius's voice was full of contempt when he said Regulus's name, but that didn't stop him from insulting the old caretaker.

Filch shot intense glares at both boys, and then turned back to his notecards. "Protesting punishment... insolence..."

When he was finally finished, he slipped two notecards into two different files. One of them was rather thick, and the other had nothing but the default documents in it. "Goody two-shoes," Sirius muttered, noticing how thin Regulus's file was.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like it's a good thing to have a thick file, you idiot," he mumbled back.

Sirius's head shot to the side to face Regulus, a scowl etched onto his face. Regulus grimaced right back, and Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. Regulus stuck his tongue out right back, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Real mature," he murmured.

"Says the one who did it first," Regulus shot back.

"Says the younger one,"

"Says the one with a six inch file,"

"Says the one who cries whenever his dear mummy yells at him,"

"Says the one who wasn't invited to his own cousin's wedding,"

"Says the one who couldn't even tie his own shoes until he was ten,"

"Says the one who can't even hear the word 'serious' without making the same, unoriginal joke,"

"Says the one who couldn't sleep without his precious stuffed dragon until he was nine,"

"Says the one who was afraid to walk down the stairs by himself until he was five,"

"Says the one who's a ruddy Death Eater in training,"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"AM NOT!"

"ARE TOO!"

The brothers's voices had been getting louder with each statement, and Filch was looking between the two of them with knit brows. The boys were absolutely fuming, and Sirius had half-risen from his seat.

Filch quietly removed the notecards from the files, and picked up his pen. "Fighting in my office..."

Sirius was about to speak - to yell at Filch, no doubt - but Regulus kicked him in the shin. Sirius hissed from pain and shot the most intense glare that he could towards Regulus, who cowered from the mere sight of it.

Filch let the boys go after that, but warned them that, if he caught them out again, they would be expelled by dawn. The two of them left the office, and they walked the same way. Sirius was walking several yards ahead of Regulus, and Regulus was purposefully keeping this distance between the two of them.

After several turns, twists, and staircases, Sirius spun around and glared Regulus. "Will you stop bloody following me?!" He snapped, and Regulus could practically feel the hostility radiating off of him.

"In case you forgot, I left something in the same ruddy place as you," Regulus snapped back.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and considered this a moment. Without another word uttered, he turned right back around and began walking at a faster pace than before. 

Regulus made no effort to catch up. In fact, he was so far behind, that he lost sight of Sirius.

When he rounded the corner to the suit of armor which held both of their belongings, it was to find Sirius flipping through the pages of Regulus's book. Regulus felt anxiety and dread creep through his veins, and he rushed forward.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, reaching out to pull the book from Sirius's grip.

Sirius tugged the book away, and he eyed Regulus suspiciously. "Why the hell are you reading about Occoloomancy, or whoever the hell you say it? What even is it?"

"None of your business," Regulus grumbled, and he hastened to rip the book from Sirius's grip. 

Sirius didn't loosen his hold on the book, not even a bit. The two boys began fighting over the book, both trying to tug it towards themselves.

Sirius had always been the stronger of the two, so he won the miniature tug of war quite easily. Huffing, Regulus glanced around. He spied the odd bits of parchment behind the suit of armor, and he grabbed them before Sirius could react. Though, Sirius had fast reflexes, and he grabbed Regulus's arm before he could get hold of the large and oddly shaped bit.

He stood up and took a quick step back with the piece of parchment that he had managed to grab, and he read it over. He was mouthing the words as he did so, and his eyebrows were slowly knitting closer and closer together until it looked like he had a unibrow.

He looked up at Sirius and waved the paper in front of himself. "What do you need all of these ingredients for? Mandrake leaves, _death's-head hawk moth chrysalis_? What the bloody hell is that?"

"None of your concern," Sirius replied in a cold voice.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so it's your business what I'm up to, but when it comes to you, it's none of mine? Rather hypocritical of you, isn't it?"

Sirius pursed his lips, and his eyes darted between the parchment in Regulus's hand and the book in his own. It was as though he were trying to decide which one of the two was more important.

Finally, he sighed and stepped forward, reluctantly holding out the book. Regulus held out the parchment, their hands each clasped around the items, and they switched at the same time. Regulus clutched the book to his chest, and Sirius hurriedly tucked the parchment - along with the oddly folded one, which he had snatched up from behind the armor - into his back pocket.

The two eyed each other a moment, and then Sirius turned 'round and began his walk back to Gryffindor tower.

Regulus stood in the middle of the hall for a moment, clutching the book tightly to his chest, watching the retreating back of his older brother. The news that Regulus had received from Andromeda earlier that day flashed through his mind, and he got the sudden urge to tell Sirius about it. Regulus wanted more than anything to be able to suppress the urge, to fight it. But, as he had already realized, Sirius had always been the stronger of the two.

"Andromeda had a daughter," he blurted out, and Sirius stopped dead in his tracks.

Sirius turned around slowly, carefully. When he had reached a full 180, he stared directly into the eyes of his younger brother. "What?"

Regulus reprimanded himself inside of his mind for not being strong enough to hold the news in. _Stupid_ , he thought, _stupid!_

He stayed silent.

"What do you mean Andromeda had a daughter? How do you know that? You're lying, aren't you? You little-"

"I'm not lying," Regulus said hurriedly. He knew that Sirius likely already hated him enough, he didn't need Sirius thinking that he was a liar now, too. "She - she told me."

Sirius scoffed and shook his head. "She told you? When? Was it before or after you befriended a unicorn?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "She wrote to me, you dimwit."

"She wrote you? She decided to write you instead of me? Yeah, right."

"She did! Well, I - I wrote her first." It was as though, once the first secret had left his mouth, they just wouldn't stop flowing. He was screaming at himself inside of his mind to stop talking. _Just shut your mouth! Just shut your stupid, stupid mouth!_

Sirius narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "So Andromeda? That's the one you've been writing to?"

"And Narcissa." _Stupid, stupid, STUPID!_

"Narcissa? Andromeda? Who's next, Bellatrix?"

"No, I only wrote to the two of them." _Shut up. JUST SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!_

"Why?"

For this one, Regulus was able to successfully keep his mouth shut. Sirius waited for an answer, but, realizing that one wasn't coming, moved to the next question.

"So... she has a daughter?"

"Yes," Regulus was glad that they had moved away from the subject of why he was writing to the two of them. He really didn't want Sirius to know that he had been writing about him. "Her name is Nymphadora. She's four months old."

Sirius's eyes seemed to soften. "Nymphadora?"

"Yes. She's a Metamorphmagus, too."

"Really?"

Regulus nodded. "I - I have a picture, if you'd like to see."

Sirius nodded his head quickly, and he rushed forward. Regulus reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the picture, which he had kept in there since he had received it (the letter was hidden safely away underneath his mattress, along with the letter from Narcissa). He handed it to Sirius, and Sirius took it gingerly.

Sirius smiled down at the picture, stroking it gently with his thumb. "They look happy," he commented.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, they do." And then, before he could stop himself- "You can keep it. If you want."

Sirius looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

Regulus nodded yet again. "Yeah. I think... I think you'd like it more than me."

Sirius smiled. "Thanks, Reg. I mean it. Thank you."

Regulus couldn't keep the smile from creeping onto his face at the sound of the nickname - the one that he hadn't heard uttered from the mouth of his brother for the past few weeks. "Don't mention it."

Sirius very carefully slipped the picture into the pocket of his trousers, and the smile didn't seem to fade from his face. "I won't."

Regulus clutched the book tighter to his chest. "Me neither."

The two brothers looked at one another for a moment, studying the darkened features and the way that the shadows and highlights emphasized certain parts of their facial structures. Eventually, though, Sirius started to back away.

"Night, Regulus," he said.

"Goodnight," Regulus replied.

Sirius turned on his heel and started down the hallway, though much less hastily than he had been going before.

Regulus watched Sirius turn the corner before turning around and starting his own way back down to the dungeons. He couldn't seem to keep a small smile from quirking the corners of his lips.

There was an air of closeness between the two brothers that had gradually settled itself during the encounter. They had both left feeling that air flowing into their lungs, through their bodies, and to their hearts.


	29. The New Seekers

September came and went in a blur of warm weather and gusty days. The leaves were starting to turn various shades of reds, oranges, and yellows, though there were still splotches of green hidden within.

Carson Nott, along with all of the other house captains, had posted the date of Quidditch tryouts the week before. For this reason, the pitch was a flurry of students practicing their flying skills.

James Potter, Sirius Black, Marlene McKinnon, Gillian Fairman, Evan Rosier, Mark Mulciber, Lorenzo Jordan, Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, Benjamin Stone, and Regulus Black were just a few of the regulars. They would spend their days zipping this way and that 'round the pitch, flying laps, playing pick up games, you name it. They were all preparing themselves for the upcoming tryouts, and they were all determined to make the team.

Everyone, that is, aside from Deacon Ackland.

He liked Quidditch and all, but he didn't necessarily think that he was the best at it. After all, he hadn't caught the Snitch at their midnight pickup game. But, Benji and Fran were both adamant that Deacon at least try out for the team - as far as they were concerned, Deacon was a Quidditch genius.

Deacon didn't necessarily know if either of his best mates were all that interested in playing, either. They both seemed to spend more time helping Deacon than they did trying to improve their own skills. In fact, now that he thought about it, neither of them had really mentioned participating in tryouts at all.

Regulus, on the other hand, was more determined than he ever had been in his entire life. He wanted desperately to get onto the Quidditch team so that he could impress his older brother. Regulus still hadn't forgotten James Potter's words to him from after their midnight game.

James thought that Sirius was proud of Regulus for what he had done during the game. Regulus had made Sirius proud.

And, despite how persistent the voice inside of his mind was when it came to not being close with Sirius or attempting to rekindle their friendship, Regulus still wanted to make his brother proud.

So, he resorted to Quidditch.

However, Regulus didn't spend loads of time on the pitch. Not nearly as much as the others, at any rate. This was accounted to the fact that he was still trying to actively learn Occlumency.

He had successfully snuck back into the restricted section and found the rest of the books that he needed, so now came the practical part. He spent most of his nights sitting awake with all of the books open in front of himself. He would use his wand to illuminate the pages, carefully reading the theories and steps that each book held. Regulus was quite worried about his ability to learn Occlumency, solely because of the fact that his mind was still abnormally cold. And, more than one book had specifically pointed out that colder minds meant weaker and sadder minds, and weaker and sadder minds equaled a harder time learning Occlumency.

But that didn't stop him.

The morning of Sunday, 30 September was clear and warm.

The sky was blue and cloudless, which was particularly unusual, and it was much warmer than it had been for the past few days. Breakfast was a frenzy of excited students, all talking about the Quidditch tryouts. Unlike years previous, all of the tryouts for each team were going to be back-to-back this year. First was Ravenclaw, then Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and finally Gryffindor.

None of the other students were allowed to watch tryouts, and neither were the other teams, but that didn't stop everyone from being excited.

Regulus was barely eating. He was so nervous about the tryouts that he would be participating in later that day that he couldn't even bare the thought of food. So, he kept his head down most of the meal. Barty was saying reassuring words to him, though he couldn't help but have the feeling that Barty was only doing this because he was Regulus's best mate, not because he actually believed it.

Nevertheless, the words did come as a sort of comfort to him.

The way down to the pitch was buzzing with activity. There were students sitting on the grass, seeing if they could peek towards the pitch and see any part of the tryouts unfold. The path itself was full of Hufflepuffs coming from their tryout, Slytherins going to their tryout, and Ravenclaws and Gryffindors who were just wandering 'round and pretending that they weren't trying to spy on tryouts.

Regulus was walking down to the pitch alone (Barty didn't come because he said he had a lot of homework to catch up on for Defense), when he heard his name being shouted.

"Regulus! Hey, Regulus, wait up!" he turned 'round and found Gillian Fairman jogging towards him.

Confused, he slowed down so that she could catch up with him. She assumed a normal pace beside him, and the two began walking down the path side by side. They were both completely silent, and not the kind of silent from that night in the common room, either. Regulus was confused as to why she was walking next to him instead of with the others, who were all walking in groups either in front of or behind them. Gillian was simply watching her step, being sure not to trip on the path, and glancing 'round at their surroundings.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" she commented, and Regulus nodded his head.

"Yeah, it is," he glanced up at her, and for the first time, he noticed how beautiful Gillian Fairman truly was.

He wasn't noticing this out of attraction for her, he had simply never paid much attention. She had sharp features, though no where near as sharp as the Black family features, and a rather small nose. Her eyes and lips seemed to fit her face with perfect proportions, and she had quite nice skin - it looked as though it were made of porcelain. She noticed his looking at her, and looked down at him with a smile (she was quite a tall girl, and therefore had to look down at a rather sharp angle to meet his eyes).

"What?" she asked, and she adjusted the way that her broom was held on her shoulder.

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just pretty," he shrugged.

A funny look came over her face, and a light laughter escaped from her lips. "I'm much too old for you, Black."

"Not like that! I don't like you or anything, it's just - er..." Regulus trailed off, and he just hoped that his face wasn't as red as it felt.

He wasn't lying; Regulus didn't like Gillian Fairman in a romantic way. Though, he couldn't really explain why not. She seemed nice enough, and she was pretty. But, for whatever reason, he held nothing but platonic feelings for the girl walking beside him.

"I'm just teasing," she said, and she waved a dismissive hand at him.

Regulus was so caught up in thought that he almost tripped on a tree root that was obstructing the path. Gillian quickly reached out a hand to keep him upright, and a small smile played on her lips. "Careful, Black,"

"Thanks," he muttered, and he steadied himself quickly.

This was the moment that the group behind them decided to pass, and much to Regulus's dismay, it just so happened to be the group with which Evan Rosier had decided to associate himself. Rosier gave Regulus a twisted smile, and his eyes darted between he and Gillian.

"Awe, look at the ickle baby going for older girls. Careful, Black, your girlfriend won't be able to catch you from tripping forever," he said, and the other boys in the group chuckled lowly.

Gillian shot Rosier a glare that made the younger boy cower at once. "Shut the hell up, Rosier, or do you want a detention?"

"You can't give me a detention," he muttered, but he was clearly trying to put on distance between the two groups.

Gillian raised a challenging brow. "I'm a Prefect, Rosier, I can give you as many detentions as I see fit,"

He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

He kept his mouth shut.

"That's what I thought. Now run along, Rosier, I can't get the satisfaction of knowing that you failed to make the team without you making it to tryouts on time, can I?"

Rosier grimaced at Regulus for but a second, and then turned back to his group and sped up to put more distance between them.

Regulus could feel his face burning.

Gillian noticed this, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, you're not letting what that that little roach said get to you, right?"

"No," Regulus replied, but the redness of his face didn't fade.

Gillian sighed, and the two walked the rest of the way to the pitch in silence. When they arrived, they were the only two that had been missing. Carson Nott didn't seem too annoyed by this, however, because he was busy pointing people to where they were supposed to go.

"Black! Fairman! What positions are you two trying for?" He shouted over the head of Mark Mulciber, who responded with a sneer and the stamp of a foot.

"Chaser," Gillian called back, and the two older students both turned their attention to Regulus.

"Seeker," he said, and a grin broke onto Carson's face.

"Excellent!" he called, and he walked past Mulciber, ignoring whatever he had been saying previously. "Alright, Fairman here, Black there," he pointed to two groups of students, one much larger than the other.

Gillian walked to the larger group, Regulus to the smaller one. He only recognized one other person in the group aside from himself; Theodore Travers. Other than him, there was a fifth year girl and boy, a seventh year girl, and a third year boy.

Regulus looked around at the other groups, and recognized quite a few familiar faces. Gillian Fairman (of course), Evan Rosier (much to his dislike), Theodore Travers (again, of course), Mark Mulciber, Francis Goyle, and Walden Macnair. Other than them, everyone else was completely unknown to him.

"Alright," Carson Nott called to the groups, and everyone went silent at once. "A few things. First, if you do not listen to me or you get on my nerves, I will not hesitate to kick you off of the field and out of tryouts. I am not taking that shit, especially not for my final year. Got it?" Everyone muttered their understanding and nodded their heads. "Excellent. Now, as you know, there are six available positions. Keeper, both Beaters, Seeker, and two of the three Chasers. I have organized you into groups, and you'll all tryout in them. Got it?" muttering of understanding. "Good. Keepers first, let's go," and so, the tryouts commenced.

Regulus watched all of the other positions try out. Carson kicked three students off of the field for being 'absolutely intolerable', as he had called them, which narrowed down the people trying out. Seekers were last, and Regulus thought that he may have never been more nervous.

"Alright, Seekers, come here," he gestured for them all to come to where he had just touched down on the ground.

They all walked over to him rather briskly, and formed a half circle around him. "I am going to release a Snitch, you'll all wait down here for thirty seconds, and then go up all at once. I am not determining who gets the position by who catches it the most, I am determining it by skill alone. Understood?"

"Yeah," they all said in unison.

"Excellent," and he let the Snitch go.

Regulus tried his best to keep the Snitch in his line of vision, but the ball was simply too fast and small. He lost sight of it within seconds.

The group of Seekers all mounted their brooms, and prepared to shoot off after the Snitch as soon as Carson gave them the OK. He was staring at the watch which was wrapped 'round his wrist, tapping his foot lightly against the field and whistling something that Regulus had never heard before. Then, without warning-

"Go," they all zipped up as fast as they could.

The Seeker tryouts lasted around twenty minutes, and Regulus was becoming more and more discouraged as time passed on. He hadn't even caught the Snitch once (granted, the Snitch had only been caught twice, and it was by different people). Both times, he had been right there. He had been right about to catch the Snitch, he could practically feel his fingers wrapping 'round the small ball.

But someone else always got to it first.

It was nearing the end of Slytherin's time on the pitch, and some of the Gryffindor's were standing on the outskirts of the field, watching the Seeker tryouts from afar. Regulus glanced at them and, to his discomfort, Sirius Black and James Potter were among the small group who had arrived early. Regulus took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back, and concentrated every bit of focus that he had on finding the Snitch. It was now or never.

Sirius had his arms crossed over his chest, the broom that he was using rested against the wall beside him (Peter's mother and father had given him a broom for Christmas the year before, and he was kindly letting Sirius use it, since he had no real interest in playing Quidditch). James Potter was talking to him about some kind of technique that one of the other girls was exhibiting, but Sirius wasn't paying attention.

His focus was trained solely on his brother.

"He's not gonna make it," Sirius mumbled, and James stopped talking quite abruptly.

"Huh?" he asked, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose and glancing at who Sirius was looking at. When his eyes fell on Regulus, his mouth formed a small 'o' shape, and he looked back to Sirius. "He could, you never know."

"The stupid little blighter hasn't caught the Snitch yet. He's not even good. He's not going to make it."

James shrugged. "He did good at that midnight game that we did,"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he's good," Sirius snapped, and James threw his hands up.

"Don't yell at me, I'm not Regulus."

"Yeah, you definitely aren't," Sirius said, refocusing on the tryout and tightening the crossing of his arms. "I actually like you."

Just as he said it, he saw Regulus pull into a dive. Sirius uncrossed his arms, and leaned forward slightly, as though it would give him a better look of the dive. All of the other Gryffindor's were also following the boy darting towards what appeared to be empty air, and several of their eyes broke away to different people as the others plunged toward the same thing.

There was no doubt about it; they were all going for the Snitch.

Regulus was ahead of them all.

He reached out an arm, pressed his body as flat as he could go against the broom, stretched his arm even further, opened his hand a little further, and he closed his fingers tightly around the Snitch. Gillian Fairman and Carson Nott both began clapping, along with a few of the other people who had tried out for other positions.

"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE DOWN," Carson called.

Regulus was beaming.

He touched down on the ground, breathing heavily, but with a smile plastered onto his face. Carson met him by the box of Quidditch balls, and took the Snitch from Regulus's outstretched hand to put back into the case.

"Ok, everyone," Carson said, shutting the case tightly and walking over to the large group of Slytherin's with his clipboard in hand. "I'll call out a position, and then the name of the person who will be playing it. If any of you get hurt feelings over not making the team, I will hex you. Don't think I won't. Got it?"

A murmur of understanding. "Excellent. Alright... Keeper is going to be Harrison Willis," a sixth year boy with sandy blonde hair let out a whooping shout of excitement. "Yeah, yeah. Hold it in, Willis. Our Beaters are going to be Walden Macnair and Mark Mulciber." Regulus's head immediately snapped towards Evan Rosier, who had gone quite pale. Gillian Fairman laughed from beside Regulus, and Carson looked at her with a smile playing on his lips. "Uh - ok - Chasers. Myself, obviously, Wyatt Pearce, and Gillian Fairman." Gillian smiled, and Harrison Willis high-fived a fourth year boy quite hard. "Last but not least, our Seeker is going to be..."

Regulus felt the nerves building up in him, and he gripped his broom so tightly that one of his knuckles popped, and the others turned stark white. Carson Nott seemed to debate over two people for a few seconds, and then nodded his head.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled to himself, gnawing gently on the end of his pen. He looked up at the group. "Ok, our new Seeker is going to be Regulus Black."

Regulus thought he might just pass out. Gillian Fairman slapped him on the back. "Good job, Regulus!" she said excitedly.

Theodore Travers looked utterly disappointed.

"That's the end. Sorry to all of you who didn't get a place on the team, but quite frankly, it's probably because you're rubbish. Get better, and maybe you'll have a shot next year."

Sirius Black was shocked.

He and James had both heard the news from where they were standing. James looked at Sirius with an expression on his face that said, _'you were saying?'_. Sirius didn't dare look back. His sole focus was still on his brother, who looked outright shocked.

James looked between the two Black brothers's expressions, and a smile quirked the edges of his mouth. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Alright, Gryffindors!" Alannah Lewis appeared in front of them all, a wide grin on her face. "Let's get on it!"

Later that very day, Deacon Ackland entered his dorm room, a stunned look on his face.

Benji and Fran were both laying on Fran's bed, heads by the footboard and feet up on the headboard. Benji had one arm behind his head, and the other rested across his stomach, and Fran had both of his arms propping his head up. They were chatting away about something, but stopped abruptly when Deacon entered the room. They both shot up to a sitting position, looks of excitement and anticipation on their faces.

"SO? HOW'D IT GO?" Francesco practically screamed, jumping out of the bed and onto the hardwood floors beneath.

Deacon looked at them both, surprise clear on his face. "I got Seeker."

Potions on Monday morning went much more smoothly than it normally did. The three Gryffindor boys were in such good moods that it seemed they didn't even realize that Regulus was there at all. The fact that all they were doing in class that day was taking notes definitely helped with this, for Regulus barely had to speak or move at all.

At the end of class, the four of them were all packing up their things, when Slughorn approached their table.

"Hello, you lot!" he said excitedly, hooking his thumbs underneath his suspenders and rocking back and forth from heel to toe.

"Hi, Professor," they all said, and Regulus slung his book bag over his shoulder.

"Ah, Mr. Black! Just the one I wanted to see!"

Regulus gave the old Professor a look of surprise. "Me? Why?"

"Yes, of course! I was going to call for you to come to my office last night, or come to the common room and collect you myself, but I remembered that I had your class first thing and decided to wait. See, Mr. Black, I heard about your new appointment to the Slytherin Quidditch team!"

" _You_ made the Quidditch team? How?" Francesco Anderson butt in, and all eyes turned to him.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm good at it," Regulus retorted.

Francesco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, ok. What position do you play? Cheerleader?"

"Seeker, you idiot."

"Seeker?! You play Seeker too?!" Deacon asked, and he looked at Regulus with wide eyes.

Regulus looked at him in confusion. "Too?"

Deacon turned red. "Yeah, I made the team. I'm Gryffindor's new Seeker."

Regulus was shocked.

Slughorn was looking between them all in amusement. "See, you lot can get along perfectly fine! I don't know why I had my doubts!"

"Maybe because he hexed me on the first day for sitting down," Regulus muttered.

"Oh, like you didn't deserve it," snapped Francesco.

"Alright!" Slughorn said, sensing the hostility that was rising between the two of them. "Congratulations, Mr. Ackland, I have not yet heard about that!"

"Thank you, Professor," Deacon said, and his face turned a light shade of cranberry.

"Of course!" Slughorn boomed. "Now, I would like to speak to you about a little gathering of mine. I call it the Slug Club! I would like you to come to our next gathering. It's a small Halloween get together, on the night of Halloween, of course. We will be serving dinner and drinks, and I can promise that it will be quite splendid!" Slughorn was talking directly to Regulus.

"Uh... sure," Regulus replied, because he didn't know exactly what else he could say.

"Excellent!" Slughorn seemed over the moon. "I will send you an invitation when the night comes closer!"

"Thanks, Professor. I'll be looking forward to it."

Slughorn smiled at him, pat him firmly on the shoulder, and turned to the Gryffindors. "Lovely to see you three," and he waddled off.

Regulus let out a sigh and walked out into the hall where Barty Crouch Jr. was waiting for him. The two picked up a casual conversation, and spoke the rest of the way to their Charms class.


	30. Halloween 1973

Regulus received his Slug Club invitation the Monday before Halloween, which took place on a Wednesday that year.

Regulus very much did not want to go to the Slug Club party, but he knew that he had to. Not only did he have Slughorn as a teacher three times a week, but he was also Regulus's head of house. There was little chance for Regulus being able to avoid Slughorn completely. So, Regulus Black turned to Carson Nott.

Regulus was eating dinner the night before Halloween, and he kept stealing glances down the table. Carson Nott, Harrison Willis, Wyatt Pearce, Walden Macnair, Gillian Fairman, and Corban Yaxley were all sitting in a large group towards the middle of the table, chatting happily amongst one another. Regulus noticed how much attention Gillian was giving Carson, and he took cognizance of the glimmer in her eyes whenever he would speak. He was fairly positive that Gillian Fairman was much more interested in Carson Nott than she was letting on.

Ever since Quidditch tryouts, Gillian Fairman had been oddly kind to Regulus. She would wave to him in the halls, talk to him during Quidditch practice, walk with him to and from the pitch, and even sit with him in the common room while he did homework sometimes. Regulus didn't necessarily mind that much, he enjoyed the company. In fact, it felt nice to have someone to consider a friend. Of course, he had Barty, but it still felt good to have more than one.

He often found himself wondering if this was how Deacon, Francesco, and Benjamin felt when they were together.

Regulus stood from the dinner table, and Barty gave him a funny look. "I have to go talk to Carson about tomorrow," Regulus reminded him, and recognition dawned on Barty's face.

"Right. Good luck," and he turned back to his food.

Regulus walked down the length of the table, nervousness coursing through his veins. He was walking on the opposite side that Carson was sitting at, so he didn't know exactly how he was going to gain Carson's attention and Carson's attention alone.

When he reached the group, he stopped behind Corban Yaxley and cleared his throat. They all stopped talking and looked at him.

"Oh, hello Regulus," Gillian said with a smile, "what's up?"

"Uh - Carson, can I talk to you a second?" Regulus turned all of his attention to the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Carson gave him a once over, and it appeared that curiosity got the better of him. He hit the table with the palms of his hands and stood up. He gestured towards the doors to the entrance hall, and took a step towards them.

"Shall we?"

Regulus and Carson walked into the entrance hall and away to a small corner so that no one would be able to hear them.

"Alright, little Black, what's up?" Carson asked, and he smirked at the tenseness that was brought onto the younger boy by the nickname.

"Do we have practice tomorrow?" Regulus asked.

Carson gave Regulus a strange expression. "No? We went over this at the last practice, I'm not wasting my last Halloween at this bloody school at practice. We're throwing a party in the common room, and I'm not missing that."

Regulus heaved a sigh. "Well, can we... can we do it anyways?"

"Why? Do you not like Halloween or something?"

"No, I do. Well, I haven't really had much experience with it. Parents never liked it. Anyways, that's not why. I have to go to this stupid Slug Club meeting tomorrow, and-"

Carson burst into laughter. "The Slug Club! Merlin, I remember those lousy get togethers! Had to go for the first four years, but one day I just stopped going, and so Slughorn stopped inviting me. So, you want me to schedule a practice and get you out of it?"

"Yes, please," Regulus said, hopeful now that Carson was actually considering his offer.

"Not a chance!" Carson said, and he broke into another fit of laughter. "No way! Sorry, little Black, you're on your own for this one," he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and patted Regulus rather hard on the shoulder.

"Get you out of Slughorn's party," Carson mumbled, walking past Regulus and shaking his head.

Regulus was standing in his dorm room, staring at himself in the mirror that was hung on the wall beside the door. He smoothed down the front of his black oxford and made sure that it was tucked properly into his black trousers all the way around.

Barty glanced up at him from where he was sitting on his bed writing their Herbology essay. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the parchment before him. "You look fine, Reg, stop fussing about it," he muttered, and he flipped the page of his textbook.

Regulus sighed and turned around, staring squarely at his best mate. "Do you want to go to this ruddy thing instead?"

Barty looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and lowered his quill. "No way, Reg, I've made my peace with not going."

Regulus groaned. "Please? You could pretend to be me. I doubt Slughorn would even notice!"

Barty couldn't help but laugh. "Wouldn't notice? Reg, you're a good three inches taller than me, have black hair, and we look nothing alike. What do I say when Slughorn asks about Quidditch?"

"Pretend you lost your voice, I don't know!"

Barty laughed again. "Sorry, Reg, you're on your own for this one," and he promptly turned back to his essay.

The walk to Slughorn's office was a short one. He expected that it must've been much longer for the other students, but of course it would be, because their common rooms were all away from the dungeons.

When he reached the office, he could hear music seeping out from beneath the door. He could hear students shuffling and chatting upstairs, and knew that they were all heading to the Halloween feast. He thought fleetingly of going to the Great Hall instead, but he knew that he shouldn't. So, he took a deep breath and twisted the door knob.

The office looked quite lovely, Regulus had to admit.

There were decorations of black, purple, and orange strewn around the room, but not the tacky sort of decorations that Regulus had often seen. There were both small and large tables lining the edges of the room, all covered in a mixture of Slughorn's most prized possessions, and pumpkins which he had had carved for the occasion. Regulus walked through the crowd of people that had gathered themselves by the door, and he decided to stick mostly to the edges of the room so as to avoid as many odd interactions as possible. It was while he was sticking to the edges that he noticed a rather tall book case.

He walked over to it, for he was overcome by a sense of curiosity. What sort of books did Slughorn enjoy reading?

Predictably, the shelves were lined in books about potion-making, potion ingredients, and what appeared to be advanced potions books. Though, the middle shelf stuck out to him.

It was absolutely littered with framed photographs. They all appeared to be a mixture of Slug Club members, Quidditch teams, and famous people whom Regulus vaguely recognized. He was scanning the faces of the people in the group photos, trying to see if he recognized any of his relatives in them.

Regulus stood on the tips of his toes to get a better look of the pictures in the back, and his eyebrows knit together when he noticed a rather familiar face. It was one of the pictures that had been hidden away, in the very back corner of the shelf, and the faces of Slughorn and the other boy were obstructed by shadows. Nevertheless, Regulus could've sworn that there was a vague familiarity about the face...

"I see you've taken to the outskirts to?" a voice broke Regulus's concentration, and he quickly dropped back to his normal height and glanced over at the boy next to him.

The office was dark, with not much light illuminating the boy's face, but Regulus could still see the scars that lined Remus Lupin's face as clear as day. They shined a pinkish-silver in the dim lighting, and Regulus noted that there had been a few additions since he had seen the boy for the first time on the platform the year before. He now had a light scar that was about an inch long crossing his nose bridge directly between his eyes, and two short parallel scars that stretched along his left cheekbone just in front of his ear.

Regulus always expected to feel a sense of unease or fear whenever he saw Remus, ever since he had discovered his secret. But one never came. What was even more odd to Regulus was that he and Remus were no more than two feet apart at the moment, but he felt completely fine. It was as though the fact that Remus Lupin was a werewolf just... didn't change anything. Regulus felt more anxious about the fact that he was one of his brother's best mates than he did about the fact that he turned into a bloodthirsty wolf once a month.

Regulus was silent.

Remus brought the cup of liquid that he had been drinking up to his lips and took a sip, his eyes not leaving Regulus. "So," he said, swallowing the drink and lowering the cup again, "I heard that you made the Quidditch team?"

"That was a month ago," Regulus mumbled, avoiding the eyes of Remus Lupin at all costs.

Remus shrugged. "Not like I see you everyday, is it?" Regulus noted the lilt of distaste in his voice, and a creeping sense of anxiety washed over him. Sirius had definitely told Remus, along with his other friends, the worst possible things that he could possibly come up with about Regulus.

"Anyways," Remus continued, taking another sip of the drink, "congratulations. Personally, I don't like Quidditch that much, but I know enough about it from Sirius and James's constant talk. You made Seeker, yeah?"

Regulus nodded his head, staring forward and scanning the crowd of other people with his eyes. He was searching for someone, anyone, who could serve as an escape route from the rather awkward encounter that he had somehow found himself entrapped in.

"Well, congratulations. James said that's a rather hard position to acquire, especially for someone so young."

Regulus looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Remus raised a challenging brow. "That you're talented for your age," he said firmly.

Regulus let his muscles relax slightly. There really did seem to be no ill intent coming from Remus Lupin at that very moment. It seemed like the boy was simply talking to Regulus. Not talking to Sirius Black's little brother, not talking to the spoiled little brat whom Sirius had spewed nothing but hate for for the past two years, but to Regulus.

Remus noticed the dropping of Regulus's guard, and he took another sip of his drink. "Have you tried this?" he sloshed the purple looking liquid around the cup.

Regulus shook his head. "What is it?"

Remus shrugged. "Something fruity, I suppose. Not too bad," he stared into the cup for a second, and then turned his eyes back to Regulus.

Regulus quickly averted his eyes, still feeling quite uncomfortable about speaking to Remus. Would Sirius get mad at Regulus for talking to one of his friends?

"So," Remus started again, his eyes moving away from Regulus and following Slughorn as he waddled across the room towards another group of students, "Sirius told me that you two ran into one another in the restricted section last month?"

Regulus's whole body went tense. "Uh - yeah, we did," Regulus said nervously.

Remus nodded. "What was he doing there?"

Regulus couldn't help but turn to Remus in surprise. "You don't know? I thought you were like, his best mate or something?"

Remus shook his head slowly. "James is his best mate. Peter and I, we're his friends and all, but we're not as close." He looked down at the cup again, sloshing around the purple liquid and studying the small white bubbles that formed when the drink hit the sides. "None of them will tell me what they were doing in the restricted section. If Sirius didn't complain so much about seeing you there, I don't think they would have told me that they went at all."

Regulus had never really processed the fact that Remus wasn't there until now. In fact, Regulus had nearly forgotten that any of Sirius's friends were there at all - he was so focused on what he had said.

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what they were looking for. Not like they'd tell me, especially if they haven't told you." he added.

Remus nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Regulus looked at Remus, and he noticed for the first time just how much taller he was. Remus had a naturally tall and lanky frame, but so did Regulus. Though, Regulus was at least six inches shorter than Remus Lupin, which was quite surprising when you took into account the fact that Remus was only a year older.

"I just thought that you might've seen what they were looking for or something," Remus continued.

The book that Regulus had seen on the ground of the restricted section passed through his mind. _So You Want to Become an Animagus?_ He wondered fleetingly if Remus might know what an Animagus is, for Regulus had never put much effort into discovering. Though, the fact that Remus Lupin didn't know about what they had gone to the restricted section for lit up a bit more of interest about the subject.

"I didn't," Regulus finally said after a few moments silence. He decided that, if Remus told Sirius that Regulus had been the one to tell him about the book, Sirius would probably hex Regulus without a second thought. So, he lied.

Remus nodded. "Thanks anyways," he muttered.

Regulus nodded.

The two boys stood in silence.

Remus downed the rest of his drink and held up the empty cup. "Well, this was a nice chat. See you around," and he disappeared back into the sea of people that filled the small office.

The rest of the party was just as boring as the beginning. There was food on long tables along the outskirts of the room, but Regulus couldn't find it in himself to walk over there and get something to eat. It was almost always the most crowded part of the room. Slughorn was making his rounds, talking jovially to the attendees of his get together.

When he finally reached Regulus, he was half asleep with his arms crossed across his chest, leaning back against the wall in a far corner.

"Hello, Mr. Black! So glad you could make it!" Slughorn boomed, and Regulus jumped at the sudden noise.

He composed himself and let out a stifling yawn, standing up straight and stretching his neck from one side to the other. "Yeah, this is... brilliant," Regulus said, and he plastered a smile that he hoped would be convincing onto his face.

Slughorn smiled and glanced 'round, hooking his thumbs underneath his suspenders and rocking on his feet like he always did. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

Regulus nodded his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His sudden wake had left his hair rather messy, and there was a single curly strand that hung in front of his right eye. He jutted out the right half of his lower lip and blew at it until it moved to the side of his face.

"So, the big game is coming up, isn't it?" Slughorn asked, turning his attention back to the second year boy.

"Yeah. This Saturday," Regulus replied.

"Are you excited?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah."

"Do you think you lot will be able to win?"

Regulus shrugged. "Dunno."

Slughorn nodded. "Well, it just matters that you try, doesn't it! Of course, winning would be rather nice. Would definitely put Slytherin in the lead for the house cup!"

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, it would."

Slughorn was silent a moment, and then he pat Regulus quite firmly on the shoulder. "Have fun, Mr. Black! Enjoy the rest of the party!"

"I will, Professor. Thank you," Regulus gave his head of house another smile, which he thought felt much more convincing than the last, and Slughorn walked away.

Now that Regulus's attendance had been counted at the party by Slughorn himself, Regulus felt it was safe to slip away. He moved as closely to the wall as he could, and slid out of the door without attracting the attention of the other guests.

The corridor leading to the Slytherin common room was filled with loud voices and even louder music. Regulus furrowed his brow, until he remembered what Carson Nott had told him the night before in the entrance hall.

There was a Halloween party going on in the Slytherin common room.

Regulus debated momentarily on whether or not to slip back into Slughorn's party. Though, he quickly decided that, whatever party was going on in the common room, it would be better than the one that he had just left.

The common room was absolutely packed.

Regulus had to squeeze through the thick crowd of Slytherin's. He reached the small seating area in front of the fireplace, which was thankfully much less crowded than the other areas of the party. There was music, which Regulus recognized as a band of wizards called The Broomstick Boys. Regulus had never gotten into their music much, not to mention the music of other wizarding bands.

There were people dancing, drinking, and chatting all around the room. Even the Prefects were having fun with everyone else. Gillian Fairman was chattering away with a girl in her year named Valeria Moss, both of them with drinks in hand. Carson Nott was sitting on top of a table in the corner of the room, talking to Harrison Willis, who was sitting beside Wyatt Pearce, who was watching a fourth year girl name Eleanor Rees with a look of adoration on his face.

Regulus looked 'round for Barty - he didn't exactly feel like interrupting the conversation that Gillian Fairman was in, and he didn't necessarily want to join in on it either. He noticed both Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers, but he couldn't see Barty anywhere.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed his way through the crowd and over towards the stone staircase which led up to the boys's dorms. The staircase was full of students, all leaning against the walls and talking to one another, or else sitting on the stairs and downing drink after drink.

Regulus maneuvered his way through the small groups of people and reached his dorm room rather effortlessly. When he stepped inside, it was to find it empty. He let out an irritated sigh and dropped onto his bed, spreading his limbs, taking a deep breath, and shutting his eyes.

He could still hear the blaring music and loud talking from downstairs, and he knew that there was little to no chance of ever falling asleep in these conditions. Regulus opened his eyes and rubbed them rather hard with his fists. When he opened them again, it took them a few seconds to focus, and there were small white specks obscuring his vision.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around the room, looking for anything that might serve as a distraction for him. His eyes landed on his broom, which was propped up on the other side of his nightstand, and he made the decision within seconds.

He stood up, threw on his coat, grabbed his broom, and left the dorm room.

It was much harder navigating through the party with his broom in hand, but he made it out of the common room without interruption nonetheless.

The path out to the Quidditch pitch was quiet. Not the kind of quiet that feels like you're being crushed in it, but the type of quiet that serves as a comfort. The type of quiet that lets you escape from the world around you, escape your problems and your fears, if only temporarily.

It was nice.

Regulus breathed in the cold Autumn air, feeling the coolness of it strike the inside of his throat and fill his lungs. The chilly air was nipping at the exposed skin of his face, neck, and hands, and he could see a misty cloud spreading out and evaporating every time he exhaled. He could feel his nose turning red from the freezing temperatures, and he severely regretted not bringing a scarf.

When he reached the Quidditch pitch, he decided to go into the locker rooms instead of directly onto the field. He enjoyed the emptiness of the locker rooms, and he found himself wishing that it was like this every time he was inside of them.

It wasn't that Regulus didn't enjoy what being inside of the locker rooms meant, for he actually quite enjoyed Quidditch. It was just who he was in the room with that he didn't appreciate much.

Carson Nott, Harrison Willis, and Wyatt Pearce were nice enough. Regulus wasn't exactly friends with any of them, but they didn't bother him. Walden Macnair and Mark Mulciber, on the other hand, had quickly become unbearable. They were both friends with Evan Rosier, and therefore, despised Regulus with every part of their being. To add to this, they were both Beaters. Carson had told them off a few times for always aiming their Bludgers directly at Regulus, and had even gone as far as to say that if they didn't stop, he'd replace them faster than they could say Salazar.

Regulus found the trunk full of Quidditch supplies in a cupboard near the entrance out to the pitch, and he took the Snitch out of its little compartment. Closing the case and leaning it up against the wall, Regulus walked out onto the dark pitch.

The air hit him like a bucket of cold water being splashed in his face, and his entire body spasmed in a shiver. He clutched the Snitch tighter in his fist, and he continued his way out fully into the night.

The field was practically pitch black when he first walked out, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness that he had suddenly become engulfed in. The grass looked like a blanket of blackness with a weird texture that was cut perfectly to fight the size of the field. The rings and stands looked like nothing but black and solid silhouettes that contrasted nicely with the dark blue sky behind. The sky itself was as beautiful as it always was. Dark blue with tiny white specks, as if someone had taken a paint brush covered in white paint and used their thumb to add flecks of it across a solid, dark blue canvas. The moon was a thick sliver, not exactly half full but not quite a quarter, either.

Regulus had been paying particularly close attention to the moon cycles ever since he had discovered that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, as though he needed further clarification that his theory was right. Because of this, he knew that the next full moon would be coming in ten days, on 10 November.

Though, when Regulus saw the other person zooming around the pitch, the beauty that surrounded him was suddenly forgotten. Regulus furrowed his brow and reached up a hand, brushing a stray piece of hair from his eyes and focusing on the other person who occupied the field.

They noticed him, too.

They slowed down, and eventually came to a halt in the sky. The two looked at each other curiously, but neither could make out the features of the other from the distance that they were at. The other person was the first to act.

They flew downwards and touched down onto the ground on the opposite side of the pitch, and they began walking towards Regulus. When the two of them were a few yards apart, the other one stopped dead in their tracks.

Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland stared at one another in silence.

Regulus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the sudden movement brought the sensation of the cold surrounding him at full swing. He began to shiver, and his teeth chattered quietly.

Regulus regretted not changing into something more appropriate for the weather. He was still wearing his black slacks, black oxford, and, while his coat was warm, it wasn't near warm enough. He wasn't entirely sure why the weather was so cold tonight, but then again, the weather had been abnormally nice leading up to this point.

Deacon Ackland was the first to speak.

"Hullo," he said, breathless from how long he had already spent out on the pitch.

"Hi," Regulus murmured, dropping his broom to the ground and crossing his arms to preserve warmth.

"What are you doing out here?" Deacon asked, though his voice wasn't accusatory. It was friendly.

"Probably the same as you," Regulus held up the Snitch as much as he could without uncrossing his arms.

Deacon nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess we'll be playing against each other on Saturday, won't we?"

"Guess so," Regulus said.

They were silent.

An awkward silence.

Deacon cleared his throat.

"So, do you want to... do you want to maybe practice together?" he was nervous, and he shifted his weight as a way to express this.

"What?" Regulus asked, astonished by the question.

"Well, we're both Seekers, right? I wasn't gonna leave the pitch for a while, it's really nice out here. Pretty. Anyways, it wouldn't do much good if we were just... trying to avoid each other, right? So, do you want to practice together?"

Regulus was quiet a moment. Deacon had a point. It really wouldn't do any good to try to avoid one another and stick to half of the pitch...

"Ok, but I have conditions," Regulus said.

"Wouldn't expect any less," Deacon mumbled.

Regulus ignore this. "First of all, we aren't friends. We aren't going to leave this pitch friends. This won't change anything. Outside of this pitch, we don't know each other."

"Alright," Deacon said.

"Second, you can't tell anyone about this. No one. Not a soul. Not even your best mates. Especially not your best mates. No one can know we were interacting in a somewhat civil manner."

"Understood," Deacon replied solemnly.

"Third-"

"There's more?"

"Yes. Third, this will never happen again. This won't become a regular occurrence, we won't become practice buddies, no. This is a one time thing."

"Ok."

"Fourth... fourth... well, there is no fourth. But, those are my terms. Clear?"

"Crystal," Deacon responded, nodding his head. "Now for my conditions."

"You have conditions?" Regulus asked.

"Yes, Regulus Black, you aren't the only one allowed to have prerequisites."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "Alright, go on."

"You can't decide that you enjoy my company so much on the pitch that you decide to take back your terms and to become my best mate. We will not sit in flower fields and have picnics and talk about drama and make each other flower crowns. Understood?" Deacon sounded completely solemn when he said this.

Regulus couldn't help but chuckle.

"Am I understood, Regulus Black?" Deacon asked, though there was a lilt of amusement in his voice.

"Oh, yeah. Very."

"Good," they were silent a moment. "So... would you like to start?"

Regulus released the Snitch without warning. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

Regulus had an unexpected amount of fun.

So much so, in fact, that he and Deacon lost track of time and were out on the pitch half the night. By the end, both boys were so exhausted that they could barely keep their eyes open. They touched down on the ground, Regulus with the Snitch clutched in his fist, both completely breathless.

Regulus and Deacon didn't say anything to one another, but silently agreed to meet outside of the locker rooms after Regulus had put the Snitch away. Regulus threw his jacket, which he had had to take off halfway through because of the heat that was created by Regulus's constant movement on the pitch, over his shoulder.

Deacon was waiting patiently outside of the changing rooms, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled at Regulus, though Regulus didn't return the gesture.

They began their walk back to the castle in complete silence - the kind of silence that was ringing in their ears. Finally, Deacon broke it.

"Didn't really dress appropriately, did you?" he asked, noting Regulus's rather formal clothes.

Regulus looked down at himself. "Oh, yeah. I was at the stupid Slug Club meeting before this. Just went straight to the pitch without changing."

Deacon nodded. They were silent again. Regulus cleared his throat. Deacon sniffed.

They were halfway up the path before the silence was shattered yet again. "Didn't change your mind, did you?" Deacon asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Regulus glanced at him. "Change my mind?"

"Remember my terms, Regulus Black."

Regulus couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from quirking upwards just the tiniest little bit. "Don't worry, I haven't magically decided to be your best mate. I can promise you, there will be no picnics or flower crowns."

Deacon laughed. His laughter seemed to be contagious, and before they knew it, they were both in hysterics. They were laughing so loud, in fact, that Regulus worried, in the back of his mind, that one of the Professors would hear and come give them a detention. That didn't stop them.

In fact, they didn't stop laughing for several minutes. When they finally stopped, they were looking directly at one another. Neither had realized it when it happened, but they had stopped on the winding path and somehow ended up facing each other.

They were silent again, though this one wasn't a ringing one.

Regulus couldn't help but feel that this was... nice. Barty and Regulus rarely ever laughed like that with one another. Deacon Ackland, Regulus had to admit, was rather good company.

_No. He's a mudblood. He's not good company. He can't be good company._

_But he is._

_He's not._

The negative side of Regulus's mind won over the positive. He quickly turned and began up the path again. Deacon had to jog to catch up, and the boys were now walking much more briskly than they had been before.

"You remember by conditions too, correct?" Regulus asked.

Deacon nodded his head. "Yup. We aren't friends, never will be friends, you hate my guts, you want me to hate yours, and I can't tell anyone else or else you'll hex me like you did Fran. That about sum it up?"

Regulus was quiet a moment.

_I don't hate your guts. No matter how ruddy much I wish I did._

"Yes," they had reached one of the side doors into the castle. They paused outside of it, and looked at one another once again. "Well, I guess that's that."

Deacon gave Regulus a warm smile. "Goodnight, Regulus Black."

"Goodnight," Regulus replied.

Regulus reached the Slytherin common room and was surprised to find it in a much better state than he thought he would. Sure, there were a few bits of broken furniture, and several students passed out 'round the common room, but it was rather neat other than that.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. _4:30AM_.

Regulus reached his dorm room and snuck inside as silently as possible. Luckily, the other boys were heavy sleepers, so Regulus was able to change and crawl into bed without raising any sort of suspicions from anyone.

As Regulus Black laid in his bed that night, he thought about the events that had transpired over the past few hours. This had possibly been the best Halloween that Regulus had ever had.

Deacon, on the other hand, didn't have much luck.

He entered the common room, careful not to accidentally bump the wall with the broom that Francesco was letting Deacon use for Quidditch.

Deacon entered the room as silently as possible, careful to shut the door without it creaking. He was completely still for a moment, holding his breath, listening intently for any sign of restlessness in the room. 

No sign of anyone else came, so Deacon exhaled in relief and turned around to face the room. As soon as he did, two desk lamps switched on, and Francesco and Benji both looked at Deacon with tired, yet firm, eyes.

"Where were you?" Benji asked, standing up from the seat that he was in and putting his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, where the bloody hell have you been?! We were worried! We thought you'd gotten kidnapped or something!" Francesco said, and he too stood up, though he crossed his arms over his chest in a fashion no where near as sassy as Benji's.

Deacon shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. "I was on the pitch, practicing for the match Saturday."

Francesco and Benji both gave him near-identical expressions of suspicion. "Were you with anyone?" Francesco asked.

Deacon thought about Regulus Black, and the promise that he had made the boy. As much as he didn't want to lie to his two best mates, he didn't want to break that promise, either. As much as Regulus tried to say that he didn't want to be friends with Deacon, he couldn't help but feel that this night had been some sort of breakthrough. Perhaps there was still a chance for the two of them to become friends, which he truly wanted to be.

For, Deacon Ackland stood by the fact that he didn't think that Regulus Black was entirely evil. No matter how many other people tried to tell him he was, or how many times Regulus chose to be rude to him, Deacon would always see the best in the boy.

_"That's a dangerous trait. I just mean that - well - if you choose to see the best in people, you could underestimate them. You could end up hurt."_

Regulus Black's words from the year previous echoed through Deacon's mind.

_We'll see, Regulus Black. We'll see._

Deacon turned his focus back to his two friends, and he shook his head. "Nope. No one."


	31. The First Match

Regulus Black was so nervous that he was practically shaking. In fact, he felt very similar to how he had before the Quidditch tryouts themselves. Only this time, he had an entire team counting on him instead of just himself.

The weather outside was absolutely dreadful. It was only a few degrees above freezing, and the winds were so strong that Regulus almost fell over multiple times on the way down to the pitch. Regulus was positive that the blustery state would most certainly mess up the dynamic of the entire team.

Carson had woken up the whole team at four o'clock in the morning and brought them all down to the pitch for one last minute practice. It was still dark out by the time they reached the field, and everyone was wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing. Regulus suspected that the Slytherin Quidditch team must look like a group of black and dark green marshmallows.

Just as Regulus suspected, the winds messed everything up. Gillian, Wyatt, and Carson kept fumbling their passes with the Quaffle, and the winds had a habit of picking up right as a goal was about to be made, sending the Quaffle off kilter and away from the hoops completely.

After the third time, Gillian heaved a very irritated sigh and flew laps 'round the pitch to expel her frustration. Carson was in a similar state. He was barking orders at all of the players, and his exasperation was rising by the second.

Mulciber and Macnair weren't having any better luck. Their Bludgers kept flying off of their intended path. Carson screamed at the two of them several times because of this, seeing as they had been specifically meant to work on their aim for the past few weeks.

"It's not our ruddy fault!" Macnair yelled in response. "It's not like we can change the weather! And, it's not even five in the morning yet, and it's bloody dark out!"

"I don't care what time it is, I don't care how dark it is, I don't care how windy it is, make up for it! Aim the direction the wind is blowing to account for the direction change!" Carson shouted back, hovering in front of the rings where he had been talking to Harrison Willis seconds before.

"Yeah, Macnair, just don't suck at your ruddy job!" Wyatt Pearce added.

Macnair shot him a fiery glare, and his next Bludger was _miraculously_ aimed right towards Wyatt.

Regulus was shivering uncontrollably on his broom. He had on two different long sleeve shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a thick scarf, and the warmest pair of pants that he owned, though it didn't seem to be doing much. Regulus was still freezing cold.

He was zipping this way and that around the pitch, trying to create as much body heat as he could, while still looking for the Snitch. The wind didn't help his flying patterns, but it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, either. Though, there had been a few hard gusts that almost pushed Regulus clear off his broom.

The Snitch was a complete different story.

While the tiny ball was doing surprisingly good fighting the breeze, Regulus couldn't seem to reach it. Every time he would reach out his arm to wrap his fingers 'round the golden ball, the wind would either knock his hand off the path or the Snitch would zoom away before he could reach. Regulus just hoped that Deacon would be having as much trouble during the match.

During his hours spent practicing with Deacon, Regulus had discovered that Deacon was actually much better than Regulus thought he would be. However, Regulus was still fairly confident in his ability to catch the Snitch.

Slytherin would be playing against Gryffindor for their first match, meaning that Sirius would most definitely be watching.

In truth, Regulus had only joined the Quidditch team in order to make Sirius pay more attention to him. Because, no matter how much he didn't want to, he really wanted to be close with his brother again. Quidditch seemed like the most logical first step.

Though, Sirius hadn't said anything to him since he made the team. Not a _congratulations_ , not a _that's surprising_ , not even a _you cheated, you little blighter_.

And, surprisingly, Regulus actually really enjoyed Quidditch. It had quickly become one of the best parts of his day. However, just because he liked it didn't mean he wanted Sirius to pay any less attention to him.

So, Regulus was determined.

The Slytherin Quidditch team all went directly to breakfast after their practice, seeing as how they had been at it for almost four hours already. The path was no less windy on the way back, and Gillian and Regulus walked together in silence. Gillian was holding her broom in one hand, and vigorously rubbing her upper arm trying to generate heat with the other. Regulus had his arms crossed over his chest, holding his broom rather awkwardly so he could.

The Great Hall was almost completely full when they entered. All of them must've been quite a sight for everyone else. They were still bundled up in their layers upon layers of clothing, and their hair looked quite windblown.

They split up and went to their usual seats at the table. Regulus dropped down next to Barty, who was eating his breakfast in silence. Barty looked at him, and noted the state that he was in.

"Where were you? You were gone when we woke up this morning," he asked.

Regulus leaned his broom up against the table and began piling his plate with heaps of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. "Carson woke us up at four this morning for an emergency practice. It's really windy, so he wanted us to get used to the conditions before the game,"

"How is it? Do you think you'll win?" Barty took a bite of his toast.

Regulus shrugged, shoveling some scrambled eggs into his mouth. Practicing for so many hours that early in the morning had left him absolutely famished. "Maybe. The wind keeps messing everyone up, though."

Barty nodded his head. "Well, good luck,"

"Thanks," Regulus responded, and he took another bite of his breakfast.

Carson Nott was pacing back and forth nervously in the locker rooms, mumbling something to himself. Gillian Fairman was leaned up against the wall, speaking softly to him and trying to calm him down. Macnair and Mulciber were whispering and laughing with one another off in the corner. Harrison Willis and Wyatt Pearce were goofing around, laughing hysterically and play fighting one another. Regulus was sitting alone in the corner, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

Carson slowed his pacing, and Gillian placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She whispered something to him, and his muscles seemed to ease up at once. He nodded his head slowly, and then turned towards the locker rooms.

"Everyone, come here," he called. The five other members of the Quidditch team stood up and carried their brooms over to where Carson and Gillian were standing. "The match is starting soon, and I need all of you to be on your top game, alright? We're going to win, and if we don't, then I'll yell at you all until your ruddy ear drums burst. Got it?"

"Yeah," everyone said in unison.

"Excellent," Carson pulled out his wand and cast a silent levitation charm on a box that had been rested upon a bench in the corner of the room. The box glided over to the group, and Carson dropped it down in the middle of the circle that had been formed. "Alright, you lot, let's get ready."

He kneeled down in front of the box and opened up the cardboard flaps, revealing a stack of dark green Quidditch jerseys. He began pull them out one by one, reading the name on the back and then tossing it to its respective owner. The fourth jersey that he pulled out of the box, he unfolded and then quickly balled up, making eye contact with Regulus and tossing it to him.

Regulus unfurled the jersey and looked it over. It was the same shade of dark green as the rest of almost everything that had to do with Slytherin. On the front of the jersey was a silver stripe wrapping 'round the middle, and the Slytherin house crest was directly in the middle of it. He turned it around, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

_Black_  
_04_

If Regulus needed anymore confirmation, this was it. He was officially part of the team.

"Put on your jerseys, everyone. It's time to go," Carson called, slipping his jersey on over his head and neatening his hair. His voice was a few octaves higher than normal, and Regulus suspected that this was brought on by the stress that he must be feeling. Not only was it Carson's final season of Quidditch, it was also his final year as captain. Carson Nott had been captain for the Quidditch team since his 5th year, and historically, they had lost the first match of the season against Gryffindor both years.

Carson was determined to make his last year different.

Hence why he had chosen a different Keeper. He just hoped that choosing Harrison Willis over Francis Goyle, who had been their Keeper for the past three years, was the right decision to make.

Everyone put on their brand new jerseys, grabbed their brooms, and stared eagerly up at their captain.

"I don't have anything motivational to say. Just win," Carson stated, and he rested his broom on his shoulder. "Let's go you lot. It's time."

They walked out onto the field, mounted their brooms, and before any of them knew it, they were in the air. The Gryffindor team came up at the same time, making the stands absolutely deafening.

"Hello, and welcome to the first match of the season!" the commentator said, and their voice echoed throughout the entire Quidditch pitch. "Today's match will be Slytherin versus Gryffindor! On the Slytherin team we have Chaser and captain, Carson Nott!" all of the Slytherin's cheered, and members of the other houses cheered halfheartedly out of obligation. "Also on the team, we have Chasers Gillian Fairman and Wyatt Pearce! Beaters, Walden Macnair and Mark Mulciber! Next we have Keeper, Harrison Willis! And finally, the first second year Seeker in years, Regulus Black!" Regulus felt pride swelling up in him as he heard his name called over the microphone, and he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"Now for the Gryffindor team! First up is Chaser and captain, Alannah Lewis!" the Gryffindor's all went wild for their captain. "Our other Chasers include James Potter and Mila Barnes!" the Gryffindor's went even crazier at the mention of James Potter, their star Chaser and the heartthrob of Gryffindor house. "For Beaters, we have Marlene McKinnon and Sirius Black! Both Black brothers out on the field, we'll see how that one goes!" Regulus was utterly shocked to hear the name of his brother announced. Sure, Sirius had played Beater for the midnight game, and he had showed up to tryouts, but this was the first mention of Sirius actually _making_ the team. "Gryffindor Keeper, Andrei Carter! And finally, we have our Seeker! Also a second year, Deacon Ackland!" Francesco Anderson and Benjamin Stone could be heard over everyone else in the stands.

The two teams circled the pitch a few times, basking in the applause that was being exuded from the stands. The commentator was talking through the whole thing, though the players weren't paying much attention to that. Regulus would tune in and out every few seconds, but for the most part, he didn't hear a thing.

"... two second year Seekers... House Cup lead... Hufflepuff next... Ravenclaw in the lead..." she rambled on and on.

The teams looped 'round at the blow of Madam Hooch's whistle, and they met in the middle of the field. Deacon and Regulus were facing one another on the right end of the circle that the teams had formed. Deacon flashed Regulus a smile, but Regulus didn't even notice; he was too busy staring at Sirius.

Sirius was avoiding Regulus's eye contact, and instead was in a whispered conversation with James Potter. James was the one who kept stealing glances at Regulus, so Regulus was able to deduce that Sirius was talking about him. Regulus felt a pit in his stomach, which just seemed to grow and grow with every look that James Potter gave him.

Regulus broke his attention away from the two boys. He was already going to have a hard enough time playing with the wind that was still going as strong as ever, he didn't need the distraction of thinking about what his brother had been saying as well.

He focused back onto the others just before Alannah Lewis and Carson Nott shook hands. Carson was doing it rather begrudgingly, and Alannah had an amused expression on her face. Madam Hooch blew her whistle again, and Alannah and Carson separated. Suddenly, the Snitch had found its place in the air between the two Seekers.

Regulus and Deacon both studied the tiny golden ball, watching it struggle against the wind. Regulus could feel his hair being blown every which way, and he was focusing very hard on staying in one place and not being blown off center.

"The Snitch has been released! Quite a windy day today, I wonder how this will affect the game itself!" Madam Hooch kneeled down beside the case of Quidditch balls, Quaffle held firmly beneath her arm, getting ready to release the Bludgers and begin the game. She looked up at the commentator, who gave her a thumbs up, and brought her whistle up to her face to hold between her lips.

She blew the whistle, released the Bludgers, and tossed the Quaffle up into the air. "The Bludgers and the Quaffle have been released, and the game begins! Oh no, looks like the wind is already causing some problems! Nothing our teams can't handle, though!"

The wind had decided to get particularly strong at that specific moment, and so all three of the balls were pushed off of their intended path. The Bludgers were headed straight for the two keepers, Harrison and Andrei, who had luckily already been ready to shoot back to the goal posts. The Quaffle, being lighter, had been pushed so far away that all six Chasers were practically flat on their brooms trying to reach it first.

Deacon and Regulus both shot straight upwards, disappearing into the cloudy haze that was the sky for that day. Regulus could see the thick grey clouds above them, and he had the sudden urge to fly up as far as he could. As far as Regulus was concerned, flying through the clouds would be a rather good way to spend his Saturday. Though, he kicked himself back into focus and centralized every bit of concentration that he had on looking for the Snitch.

Wyatt Pearce reached the Quaffle first.

He scooped it up under his arm, pulled quite a sharp 180, and barreled down the pitch towards Andrei Clarter, who was trying very hard to guard all three rings at once while still fighting against the violent winds. Gillian Fairman and Carson Nott were flying on either one of his sides, guarding him from the wind, as well as other players.

Wyatt was coming ever closer to the rings, and he glanced to his left towards where Gillian was. The two made eye contact, and she looked over his shoulder towards Carson, who nodded his head. Wyatt switched the Quaffle so that it was underneath his left arm instead of his right, getting ready to pass it. James Potter saw this, and he came up beneath the gap between Wyatt and Gillian, ready to shoot upwards and snatch the Quaffle at any second, while still trying to account for which way the wind would push it.

Wyatt passed the Quaffle, and James darted upwards. Though, he darted through empty air, for at the last moment, Wyatt had passed it to Carson instead. Andrei was caught off guard by the sudden side switch, so Carson was easily able to shoot the Quaffle right through the lower right ring (he did have to aim it a few feet to the left to account for the wind, and even then, the Quaffle nearly missed the hoop).

"Goal by Carson Nott! 10 to 0, Slytherin!" the commentator announced, and she added a 1 to the Slytherin's score.

Regulus saw Gillian grinning from ear to ear, shouting that Carson had done a good job. Andrei looped 'round the hoops and to the right, where the wind had almost pushed the Quaffle clear to the edge of the pitch. The Quaffle was tossed to James Potter, who went zipping down the pitch as fast as he could possibly go without losing himself in the gusts of wind.

Regulus and Deacon were having to fight very, very hard. For whatever reason, Regulus wasn't necessarily sure, the wind seemed to be much more violent at the altitude that the two Seekers were searching. Regulus could barely even hear anything with how hard the wind was hitting his ears, and he expected that by this point, his hair must look like an absolutely birds nest.

His hair had grown out almost two inches already, so it now hung quite limply on either side of his head and into his face in thick, curly strands. Regulus, in the short amount of time that he had spent looking at his brother before the game, had noticed that Sirius's hair was grown out, too. His hadn't been properly cut since the summer the year before, and it already hung past his jawline. He had pulled half of his hair up into a small bun on the back of his head, which only left a few strands in his face.

Regulus wished that he had had the same idea, especially when his hair was blown into his eyes and obstructed his vision for the tenth time in the past few minutes.

Deacon didn't seem to be having any better luck. His hair was flying every which way, obstructing his vision, and he was being pushed 'round by the wind. They were both also shivering quite uncontrollably - the Quidditch uniforms weren't exactly the warmest.

They were both glancing around the field, putting all of their effort into finding the Snitch so that they could go inside and be warm once again. A few times, Regulus thought that he might've seen it, but it always turned out to be a false alarm. Regulus just hoped that this game wouldn't last as long as the midnight one from the beginning of the term.

The Chasers continued to both score and fumble goals for the next twenty minutes. The score was climbing slower than it had at any Quidditch match previous, and this could all be blamed on the heavy and violent winds that continued to attack the players.

The Beaters were in a similar situation. While Sirius and Marlene were both excellent at aiming, the wind was messing it all up. Their Bludgers would go flying in directions that they hadn't even hit them in, causing their frustration to grow by the second. Mulciber and Macnair weren't the best at aiming anyways, and despite their early morning practice that very day, they were doing dreadfully.

Regulus's hands were practically frozen to the handle of his broom. His entire body was trembling from cold, his teeth were chattering, and he could feel the cold nipping at his exposed skin.

When he glanced at Deacon, being sure that he hadn't pulled into a dive that Regulus had somehow missed, he noticed that he was in a similar state. His cheeks were flushed with cold, and his nose was bright red. His lips had a blue tint to them, and his hands were gripping the broom so tightly that his knuckles were stark white. Though, the whiteness of his knuckles seemed to blend in with his skin color much more naturally than normal. The temperature mixed with the grey cast that the sky was giving the world made anyone and everyone appear much paler than they normally did.

Regulus looked back towards the field, where a goal attempted by Gillian Fairman had just been blown away from the ring and missed. She let out a groan of frustration as Andrei snatched the Quaffle back up and tossed it to Mila Barnes.

He watched Mila barrel down the pitch, and it was while his eyes were following her that they landed upon something else. There was a shimmer of gold nearest where the Slytherin team's rings met the ground.

He had to do a double take to be sure that he had seen it right, and when he was positive that he had, he didn't even hesitate. He pulled into a practically perpendicular dive, headed straight for the Snitch. Deacon took a second to process what was happening, but he was following behind Regulus within seconds.

"Both Seekers have seen the Snitch! Black is in the lead... Ackland holding close behind... Black still leading, nearing the ground... coming very close to the ground... not pulling up from their dives... Ackland closing in..." the announcer was commentating every single action between the two Seekers. However, Regulus wasn't paying any attention to this. It was as though all noise around him had ceased to exist. His full focus was on the Snitch.

He reached out his right hand, extending his fingers and wincing slightly from their stiffness. He didn't falter. He flattened himself further down on the broom to gain momentum. He extended his arm further. His eyes stayed trained on the Snitch.

In that moment, Regulus Black and the Snitch were the only two things in the world.

Every other player aside from the Seekers had paused, watching the two Seekers headed for the Snitch. Sirius Black was hovering, Beaters bat in hand, unsure who to root for. Of course he wanted his own team to win, but he felt a sense of delight when he saw how close Regulus was to winning the game.

Sirius would never admit it aloud, but he felt quite proud of his little brother.

Regulus narrowed his eyes against the winds that were burning them, determined not even to blink, in case he were to lose sight of the Snitch. He came closer... closer... closer...

He felt his finger close 'round the little ball, and he swelled with pleasure.

He had done it.

There was a ringing silence throughout the entire pitch. It was as though no one was even breathing. Everyone was still.

"REGULUS BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! 150 POINTS, SLYTHERIN WINS!" the commentator called, breaking the silence.

The stands erupted.

Almost every single student in the stands was cheering for the excellent catch that they had just witnessed. The Slytherin team descended upon Regulus in seconds.

"YOU DID IT, LITTLE BLACK! THAT WAS FUCKING EXCELLENT!" Carson shouted, throwing his broom on the ground and picking Regulus up instead.

"REGULUS, THAT WAS FANTASTIC!" Gillian was beaming, and she helped Carson in hoisting Regulus up above the crowd.

Regulus was flushed with delight and pleasure. He was smiling from ear to ear, and in that moment, he didn't know if he would ever stop.

In that moment, Regulus Black had left behind all of his fears, all of his problems.

In this moment, Regulus Black was weightless.

"REG - U - LUS! REG - U - LUS!" The team was chanting, Gillian and Carson carrying Regulus off of the pitch on their shoulders.

A group of Slytherin's had joined in on the chant, and soon, they were just a big cluster of students with Regulus raised up in the middle.

The after party in the common room that night was the most fun that Regulus had had in months. Everyone kept coming over to him and congratulating him throughout the night, even people whom Regulus had never spoken to before. Regulus was the star of the party.

"Regulus," Corban Yaxley dropped down onto the couch beside Regulus, who was having a conversation about Transfiguration with Barty. "Barty," Corban also greeted the other boy.

"Hullo," Regulus said, turning to look at the older boy.

"I just wanted to let the both of you know that Walden and I are planning another meeting," Corban was talking in his normal volume of voice, which was extremely quiet in juxtaposition with the loud atmosphere.

Regulus and Barty glanced at one another. "When?"

"We aren't entirely sure yet, but we need to have another one soon. We were thinking sometime before Christmas. Work for both of you?"

They each nodded.

"Excellent, I'll let you know," and he left them alone.

Regulus and Barty looked at one another, and Regulus could see the excitement clear on Barty's face. Regulus tried to mirror this excitement to the best of his abilities, and just hoped that it would be convincing enough.

In reality, Regulus wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to go. Ever since what he had witnessed over the summer, he had started to have doubts about the Dark Lord.

_I can't have doubts about him. If I do, I'll be in trouble, too._

_Sirius escaped it. Why can't I?_

_Sirius escaped it by becoming a disgrace to the family. Sirius became a blood traitor. I'm not like him._

_I wish I was._

_No. No I don't. Sirius dishonored the Black family name. I don't want to be like him. I want to make mother and father proud._

_I want to make Sirius proud, too._

_I want to make the Dark Lord proud. It's the only thing mother and father think I'm good for. It is the only thing that I'm good for. I'll make them proud. Sirius doesn't matter._

Regulus couldn't have doubts about the Dark Lord. Not now. Not ever. Unless he wanted to end up like Constance Selwyn, Regulus could never doubt him.

He needed to do what his parents had always intended for he and Sirius.

Regulus just wanted to make Orion and Walburga Black proud.

What Regulus had to give up, to sacrifice, for this; that was his real concern.

_No. I won't have to give up anything._

_Yes I will._

_Like what?_

_Sirius._

_Sirius doesn't matter. He hasn't mattered since he got sorted Gryffindor._

_Sirius does matter._

_Does Sirius matter, or does the Dark Lord matter? I can only have one._

_If I choose the Dark Lord, Sirius will hate me. If I choose Sirius..._

_Go on._

_If I choose Sirius, the Dark Lord will kill me._

_The Dark Lord is a great man. I'm proud to be working for him. I want to work for him. I'm going to be a Death Eater. I'll be one of the most loyal Death Eaters in history. He'll be proud. I'm going to do it. I have no doubts. I have nothing but loyalty and respect for the Dark Lord._

He pushed these feelings and thoughts aside. He was in far too much ecstasy from the game that he had played that day to entertain these ideas.

He closed his mind, and focused solely on the euphoria that he was feeling.


	32. Regulus Black, Secret Keeper

_I will be hosting a meeting for the Slug Club in my office for Christmas! Arrive no later than six o'clock sharp on 20 December, and wear your best Christmas jumpers!_

_Horace Slughorn_

Regulus received his invitation by owl on 10 December. He wasn't entirely sure why Slughorn had sent out the Christmas party invitations so early, but he assumed that it must be so that everyone could be sure that they had a clear schedule.

He shoved the note deep into the pocket of his robes and shoveled spoonful after spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Barty was watching him from the side, furrowing his brow at how fast Regulus was downing his breakfast.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

Regulus looked up, closing his mouth 'round another spoonful of oatmeal. "Hm?"

Barty gestured to Regulus's already almost empty bowl. "You're eating really fast."

Regulus gulped down the last of his breakfast. "Yeah, I want to get in some reading before class," he scarfed down a bit of toast, and held another slice in a napkin as he stood up. "I'll be in the library if you need me."

"What have you been reading about?" Barty had been meaning to ask the question since September. Regulus had been sneaking off and spending hours upon hours reading books that Regulus would never tell Barty the topic of.

"Just - erm - healing stuff," Regulus replied. It wasn't necessarily a lie, Occlumency did have to do with the mind, which did have to do with healing.

"Healing stuff? So what, you want to be a healer now?"

"No, just - uh - trying to learn more about it. Exploring my options, you know? Maybe I will be a healer, you never know." Regulus shrugged, attempting to seem nonchalant.

"But, aren't you going to... you know... work for _him_?"

Regulus nodded. "Well, yeah, of course, but... like... after, you know?"

"After?"

"After he takes over, we'll still need to get jobs. Maybe healing is what I want to do. I don't know."

Barty eyed him suspiciously a moment, but he ceded nonetheless. He turned back to his breakfast, leaving Regulus to his own devices. Regulus stared at his best mate a moment, guilt welling up inside of him. He and Barty had started to drift apart this term, and it was entirely Regulus's fault.

He fleetingly debated whether or not to ask Barty if he wanted to come.

He decided against it.

_We'll be close again when I know Occlumency_ , Regulus told himself, _I just have to learn Occlumency. Then, everything will be back to normal._

Regulus turned around and left without another word.

He sent a glance towards the Gryffindor table on his way out, solely out of habit. He noticed that Remus Lupin was missing, and his three friends were in their usual nervous and worried states. Regulus paused a moment at the end of the table, though he quickly picked up his pace and continued to the door.

The full moon was the night before, meaning that Remus was most definitely either still where he went to transform, or in the hospital wing. Regulus wasn't entirely sure where Remus went to transform, and to be honest, he had never given it much thought. He just knew that, wherever it was, it was safe enough that no one had been hurt in the almost three years that it had been in use. He was able to deduce quite easily that it wasn't inside of the castle, for someone would surely hear a werewolf in the school once a month. This meant that it had to be off of the grounds, close enough that the Professors would be able to reach him in the case of an emergency, and also close enough to where he could get to it without raising suspicion.

Regulus pushed these thoughts aside for now - he would try to discover where Remus went every month another time. He never knew when Severus Snape would try entering his mind, and he couldn't risk him discovering Remus's secret. Regulus still wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to tell anyone, and more importantly, if he wanted to tell the Dark Lord. Until he reached that decision, he absolutely could not risk anyone else finding out.

Just as he was leaving the hall, he noticed that Deacon Ackland and Benjamin Stone were missing from the table as well. He brushed this off, assuming that they had either already left, or hadn't come down for breakfast yet. Not like he cared anyways, he didn't care at all about those stupid second year Gryffindor's.

He entered the library and headed straight down the aisles of books towards the back.

Regulus had been spending so much time in the library reading the books that he had borrowed, that he had found himself a regular spot. It was towards the back corner, but not quite against the walls of the library itself.

There was an odd area where the shelves dead ended and formed a sort of cove of books. Regulus had discovered this nook on his third time to the back of the library, and had since moved a collection of blankets and pillows there to form a nice little reading corner for him.

It was on the way to this little corner of his that he heard it.

Crying.

Regulus was telling himself to continue on, to ignore the muffled crying and comforting whispers that he could hear. He needed to learn Occlumency as fast as possible, and he couldn't do that if he investigated every odd noise that he heard in the library.

His body wasn't listening. His body was directing him in the direction of the crying. He knew that he should turn around, his mind was telling him to turn around, but he couldn't manage to do it.

When he rounded the corner, he found the source.

There was another small nook, similar to the one that Regulus had taken to calling his reading spot, and there were two boys crouched away in it. Deacon Ackland was crying quietly into the crook of Benjamin Stone's neck, clutching onto his robes. Benjamin had his arms wrapped around Deacon, and he was rocking the two of them back and forth, whispering comforting words to Deacon.

Regulus suddenly wished very much that he hadn't followed the sounds. He stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the aisle, unsure exactly how to react. Benjamin glanced up, his brow furrowed with concern, but his facial expression immediately turned to one of stone.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Regulus shifted his weight uncomfortably, but he tried to seem as stern and stone-cold as possible. "I was coming here to read, and then I heard... this," he gestured to Deacon.

Benjamin narrowed his eyes. "Well, you can leave now,"

Deacon looked up at the familiarity of the voice. He slowly shifted away from Benjamin, pulling himself out of his arms and scooting a few inches away. He sniffled and wiped the snot away from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Oh, hello Regulus," he said. His voice was thick with emotion, though it also had a roughness to it that must've been brought on by the crying.

Regulus didn't say anything. He and Benjamin were glaring at one another. Deacon rolled his eyes and wiped the tears roughly from his cheeks, trying to keep new ones from flowing.

"Benji, stop, let's just go," he stood up from the ground, though his center was completely off, so he stumbled a bit and had to hold onto the shelves of the book case.

Benjamin didn't move.

Regulus didn't, either. He had always been quite stubborn, and if he was already in a stare-off, he was absolutely determined to come out winning. Benjamin was the same.

Deacon groaned. He knew very well just how stubborn Benjamin was, and he knew from the first day in the boats last term that Regulus Black was not one to back down from something like this. Deacon just wanted them both to get along, though he knew that that could never happen.

At least, not at the present moment in time.

He hoped that one day they would be able to at least be civil to one another. Hoping was the only thing he could do. Deacon thought that he may never be able to fully understand why he was so determined to become friends with Regulus Black, the boy who had been nothing but mean to him for almost two years. Sure, Regulus had certainly been more pleasant, seeing as how they were able to act civilly to one another for hours on end the night of Halloween, but they hadn't spoken since.

Benjamin looked away first, and Regulus felt a sense of triumph swelling up in him. Benjamin stood up and, without a word, he passed Regulus and started back to the main part of the library. Deacon stood rather awkwardly for a moment, staring at Regulus, who was adjusting his school uniform.

"Well, bye then," Deacon said, and he hurried past Regulus, carefully avoiding his eyes.

Regulus stood alone for a few moments. Finally, he turned around to begin towards his little reading nook. However, reading suddenly seemed much less appealing to him.

Why was Deacon Ackland crying?

Whatever it was, Benjamin knew about it, but Francesco didn't. From the time that Regulus had spent around the group of second years, it was quite obvious that Francesco would do just about anything to protect Deacon and make him happy. So, it was very unlikely that Francesco knew what Deacon was so sad about, and he just decided to ignore it. No, no Francesco didn't know.

So, why was Deacon trying to keep it a secret?

Regulus suddenly had a whole list of secrets that he wanted to discover.

He decided to start with Deacon Ackland's.

Regulus left the library and headed straight for Potions.

By the time that the other students arrived, Regulus had been reading his book on Occlumency at the desk for nearly thirty minutes. He figured that he would be safe reading in the classroom because, not only was Severus Snape not in the class, but Slughorn typically kept to himself and napped at his desk until the start of class, if he was even in the classroom.

Benjamin and Deacon sat down at their shared desk with Regulus Black, though Francesco wasn't with them. Regulus quickly dog-eared the page he was on and slid the book back into his bag, keeping his eyes trained on the table in front of him. Benjamin and Deacon looked at one another, and then to Regulus.

"Regulus?" Deacon said, his voice gentle and quiet.

Regulus looked up at him, trying to keep his expression as cold and menacing as possible. Deacon didn't seem to care.

"Uh, I was just wondering, can you maybe not mention what you saw today? You know, in the library? Not in front of Fran," Deacon seemed rather awkward as he spoke.

Regulus scoffed. "Why on earth would I go out of my way to talk to any of you?"

Deacon saw right through Regulus's act, and he gave the boy a smile. "Thank you," he mouthed, so as not to alert Benjamin to the fact that that was basically Regulus's way of making a promise.

Regulus didn't say anything in response, he simply turned back to the table. He was trying so hard to ignore the presence of the other boys, as he usually did, that the only indication that they were even still there was presented to him halfway through the class in the form of a note.

He saw Deacon discreetly slide a folded piece of paper towards him, and quickly withdraw his hand before his two friends could see. Regulus wanted to leave the note there, or to rip it up into little pieces, but he was just so curious.

And curiosity always got the better of Regulus Black.

He quickly snatched the note from the table and rested his hands in his lap, unfolding it and reading it circumspectly.

_I didn't tell them about Halloween. Just so you know._

Regulus glanced at Deacon through his dark eyelashes, and he quickly decided what to do. He placed the note on top of the notes that they were taking for the class, and scribbled a response.

_Good. Don't._

Regulus had a plan.

He folded the paper and slid it back across the desk, careful that Benjamin and Francesco didn't notice. Deacon grappled for the note and read it quickly. Regulus watched the smaller boy debate for a few moments on what to do, and then saw him quickly scribbling a response. He passed the note.

_I won't._

Regulus replied.

_Why were you crying in the library?_

Deacon Ackland froze. Regulus could see a light pink flush creeping up onto his cheeks, and his eyes darted towards Francesco for a fraction of a second. He sloppily wrote down a response.

_None of your business, Regulus Black. You're not the only one allowed to have secrets._

Regulus knew all too well about secrets.

He didn't reply. He had gotten what he needed.

Whatever the reason for Deacon's crying may be, it definitely had something to do with Francesco Anderson.

That night, Regulus sat up in the common room. It was half past one in the morning, so the room was deserted. He was writing his Charms essay, while simultaneously thinking about what Deacon Ackland's secret could possibly be.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the girls's staircase caused Regulus to look up. He watched the form of Gillian Fairman emerge from the shadows of the case.

Her eyes landed upon him, and she was more than a little shocked to find him down there. Though, this shock quickly faded, and was replaced by a sense of gratitude. She had been quite enjoying Regulus's company for the term so far. Despite how much he tried to act like he wasn't, Regulus Black was truly one of the nicest people that Gillian had ever met. She often thought to herself how like his brother he was, however she always buried these thoughts deep down inside. Regulus Black was nothing like Sirius Black. He wasn't a blood traitor. Regulus Black was a good boy.

Regulus followed her with his eyes as she maneuvered through the dark room, dropping heavily into one of the seats before the fire place. Regulus was sitting cross legged on the plush, dark green rug, leaning over the short coffee table to do his homework.

"Hello, Regulus," Gillian greeted, and her eyes flashed towards the parchment on the desk in front of him. "What's that?"

Regulus glanced to his essay, and alarm rose up in him. He could've sworn that he had been writing about Charms, but what was written was anything but.

_The theory of the memory charm, Obliviate, is Deacon Ackland's secret has to do with Francesco. Francesco Anderson and Deacon Ackland. Deacon Ackland crying in the library over Francesco. Why was Deacon crying over Francesco? Whatever it is, Francesco wasn't acting strange about it. Francesco doesn't know._

He felt his face flush, and he quickly scribbled everything out. He must have been so lost in thought about why Deacon could possibly have been crying over Francesco that his mind subconsciously expressed those thoughts into writing.

"It's - uh - it's an essay for Charms. It's on the theory of Obliviate," he just hoped that Gillian hadn't been able to read what was written from where she sat.

"Oh, I remember that one. Why are you scribbling everything out? If you need help with it, I can help you. I think I got an Outstanding on that essay," she slid off of the chair and sat with her knees pulled up to her chest on the opposite side of the coffee table from Regulus.

Regulus looked at her, and was once again shocked at how beautiful Gillian Fairman was. The way that the fire was lighting up the edges of her light blonde hair, making it appear a fiery shade of orange. Her features were much softer in the darkness of the common room, but they were still striking. Though, again, Regulus felt nothing but a platonic feelings towards her. She was just a very pretty girl whom Regulus had no romantic interest in whatsoever.

"So, have you started yet? What did you have written before you scribbled it out?" Gillian pressed.

"I had started to write about how the theory is always the most important part behind any spell, especially in a spell as complicated as Obliviate," he fabricated.

"That's a really good start! Here, get another sheet of parchment, and let's start with what you just told me."

The two of them worked together on Regulus's Charms essay for the next hour, and by the time they were finished, it was almost perfect.

"This is an Outstanding for sure!" Gillian exclaimed, finishing her final read through of the essay. "Seriously, Regulus, this is really good," she handed it back to him with a smile.

He took the essay and slid it carefully into his book bag. "Thank you. Honestly, it probably would've been rubbish without your help."

"That's what friends are for."

Regulus looked at her. "Friends?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't think that two people who spend as much time together as we do could not be considered friends. Don't you?"

Regulus couldn't help the smile from creeping onto his face. "Yeah."

She smiled in response, and Regulus stifled a yawn. "Oh, you should go to sleep," Gillian glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost three in the morning. "You have classes tomorrow."

"You do, too," Regulus pointed out, and he leaned back so that his shoulder blades sank into the sumptuous couch behind him.

"I don't have class until ten tomorrow," she waved a dismissive hand.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm a sixth year, remember? I'm not taking loads of classes, so I have mornings off three days a week."

Regulus thought a moment. "What do you want to do when you leave school?"

"Probably go into the Ministry. I don't know exactly what branch yet, but the Dark Lord could use some of his followers as Ministry officials. Well, more of them, anyways."

Regulus was shocked into silence. He had completely forgotten that Gillian was one of the regulars at Death Eater meetings. In fact, he had forgotten that she was involved with him at all. It was as though Gillian had become one of the only things that Regulus could count on that wasn't involved with the Dark Lord at all. He had been experiencing a false sense of safety when he was with her for months.

How could he have just _forgotten_?

"Regulus?" Gillian's voice broke through his thoughts, and he was snapped back into reality.

"Huh?" he asked, moving his eyes from the grain of wood that made the coffee table between them to her face.

"I asked what you want to do? When you get older?"

Regulus shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Well, you are only in second year. I don't think anyone expects you to know yet."

Regulus nodded his head. There was a moment of silence, and then-

"Hey, Gillian?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you still marrying Corban Yaxley?"

Gillian was silent a moment, and the air in the room changed from one of security and joy to awkwardness and hostility.

"Yes." she finally said, though her voice was cold.

Regulus pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "You don't want to, do you?"

"No," Gillian didn't even hesitate. "But it's not a matter of what I want, Regulus. It's a matter of what my parents want. It's a matter of what I have to do. We have to keep the bloodlines pure, and... and marrying Corban is how that will happen."

Regulus took another few moments of silence. "You don't love him."

"Of course I don't love him," she snapped. Her voice was hard and fierce, and Regulus was quite taken aback by it. She sighed. "I'm sorry," her voice softened, "no, no I don't love Corban."

"You love Carson Nott."

Silence. A ringing, uncomfortable silence.

"How do you know that?" her voice was just above a breath.

"I'm very observant."

"You haven't told anyone, have you? You can't tell anyone. No one can know," her voice was hasty.

"No, I haven't told anyone. I wouldn't. It's not really my business to tell anyone," he shrugged his shoulders. "If I had a secret like that and someone else figured it out, I wouldn't want them to tell anyone. So why should I put other people through that?"

The words that left Regulus's mouth shocked him, as though they were being said by someone else. Suddenly, the feeling that was prompting Regulus to keep Remus Lupin's secret made sense.

Gillian's expression softened. "Thank you, Regulus. I mean it," her voice sounded strange, as though it had been overcome by emotion.

"It's no problem. But... but you do? Love Carson, I mean?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I do. I have since second year."

Regulus widened his eyes. "Really?" Regulus couldn't even fathom falling in love with someone during his current school year. He was just so... busy with everything. He couldn't imagine having the time to become as utterly and completely overcome by love as Gillian Fairman was.

"Yes. We dated for two years, you know. Third and fourth."

"What happened?"

She sighed. "Well, the summer before fifth year, my parents found out. They told me that I had to break up with Carson because I was to be marrying Corban."

"So Carson loves you back?"

She nodded her head solemnly. "Yes."

"I'm sorry," Regulus didn't know what else to say.

She gave him a sad smile. "It's alright. I've made my peace with the whole situation. I'm going to be pushed into a loveless marriage so that I can carry on the family bloodlines. It's not pretty, but it's the reality. And the reality isn't always pretty, Regulus. You need to know that."

That was quite possibly the saddest thing that Regulus had ever heard.

A silence settled itself between the boy and the girl. Though, it was quickly shattered by the sound of Gillian Fairman's yawning, and the cracking of her spine as she reached her arms up into the air and stretched.

"Well, I'd best be off to bed. I would suggest the same for you," she stood up from the ground and stretched the rest of her body. "Goodnight, Regulus."

"Goodnight," his eyes followed her as she walked towards the staircase. "Your secret is safe with me. By the way."

She turned around. "Thank you, Regulus. You're like a regular secret keeper, aren't you?"

"You have no idea."

She laughed lowly.

Regulus watched Gillian Fairman retreat back to her dormitory, and he heaved a sigh. He turned towards the fire, watching the orange flames dissipating into the air. He felt terribly for Gillian. He wished there was something that he could do to help her, to make her happier. Though, he didn't know exactly how. Was there a way to help her? Like she said, this was just the way that pure-blood families worked. Gillian Fairman was going to be forced to marry Corban Yaxley, whether she liked it or not.

And, as far as he knew, Regulus Black was the only one who knew about the love that Carson and Gillian shared. Just as he was the only one, or one of the only ones, who knew about so, so many other things.

The conversation between he and Narcissa at her wedding. The true whereabouts of Sirius Black on Christmas day the year previous. The daughter of Andromeda and Ted Tonks. The fact that Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

He was keeping so many secrets at the moment, that they seemed to weigh him down. Though, the urge to spill them all was practically non-existent. Regulus Black needed to keep all of the secrets that he held.

What was worse, Regulus Black wanted to discover more.

He _wanted_ to discover why Deacon Ackland was crying over Francesco. He didn't know why, it wasn't as though he actually cared for the boy at all. He's a mudblood! At least, that's what Regulus tried to tell himself.

He _wanted_ to learn where Remus Lupin went every full moon. Not that it necessarily mattered, he wasn't stupid enough to knowingly seek out a werewolf on the full moon. But he just felt the urge to know.

He _wanted_ to know what an Animagus was, and why Sirius, James, and Peter were seemingly hiding it from Remus. The list of ingredients that Regulus had found in Sirius's possession almost three months previous just had to have something to do with it. What else could they be for?

Regulus Black didn't know if he would be able to stop collecting secrets until it felt as though he were being crushed by the weight of them all.

Regulus Black was, as Gillian Fairman had said, a regular secret keeper.

And he wanted to know more. So many more.

The next day at breakfast, Regulus and Barty were sitting side by side towards the end of the table when Corban Yaxley passed them. Though, he didn't just pass them, he dropped a folded slip of paper on the table between them.

They looked at one another, and immediately huddled together so as to hide the note from everyone else. Regulus was the one to grab it from the table, and he unfolded it under both boys's gaze.

_Meeting scheduled for 20 December. Same place, same time. Remember your task._

They looked at one another, Barty in excitement and Regulus in numbness. So, it was officially starting again.

They were officially back to their work as Death Eaters in training, if they had ever left it at all.

Regulus suppressed every single doubt rising up in his mind. Regulus wanted to work for the Dark Lord. He was excited. Regulus was excited. He needed to be excited. He _was_ excited.

At least, that's what he was telling himself.


	33. 20 December, 1973

Regulus didn't own any Christmas jumpers.

He grew up in a household that never saw Christmas as much of anything. They would treat it as a normal day, with the addition of a few presents. So, Regulus didn't own a Christmas jumper.

He didn't know exactly who did, but he only really had two friends in all of Slytherin house - in all of the school - so he turned to them. Barty owned one, but it was too small for Regulus. So, he turned to the other.

"Hey, Gillian?" Regulus asked on 19 December. The two of them were walking back to the castle from Quidditch practice, both with damp hair from showering and their brooms rested on their shoulders.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking down at the small boy whom she was walking beside.

"Do you own any Christmas jumpers? I don't have any, and I got invited to the Slug Club Christmas party thing, and Slughorn asked everyone to wear their Christmas jumpers."

"I'm sorry, Regulus, I don't," her voice was apologetic.

"Oh, ok. Thanks anyways."

So, Regulus was without a Christmas jumper for the party.

He was sitting at the Slytherin table for lunch the day of the Christmas party, glancing 'round at everyone in the hall. Watching them. Studying them.

Christmas break was starting the following day, which meant that the castle was absolutely buzzing with excitement. They were done with classes for the first half of term, and the Christmas spirit had already settled itself within the walls of the castle. It had been snowing practically non stop since mid-November, leaving the grounds coated in a thick layer of stark white snow.

Students could be seen spending every waking moment of their free time outdoors, building snowmen, making snow angels, having snowball fights, you name it. This made Quidditch practice absolutely miserable for every player involved. Regulus had to wear layers upon layers upon layers of socks, pants, shirts, jackets, gloves, and scarves just to have a hope of not turning into an icicle on the field. Even then, he would often return to the locker rooms with flushed cheeks, a bright red nose, and blue-tinted lips.

The inside of the castle was much more pleasant.

The corridors were decorated in tinsel of all different colors, garlands of green with little cranberries growing in them and a light layer of unmelting snow, big red bows, and the rugs that covered the halls had been magicked to have rather Christmassy designs. In practically every single corner of the castle, there was a large Christmas tree. They were all decorated differently, but still beautifully.

To add to this, the teachers had put a rather complicated charm on the Great Hall. For the entire week leading up to the holiday break, it snowed during meals. Though, they had also cast a sort of protection charm, so the snow always melted and disappeared a few feet above the tables.

Hogwarts looked magical.

Regulus watched all of the students talking to one another in utter excitement, all speaking about their plans for the holidays. It was very easy to deduce which students were staying and which were to be going home based off of their mannerisms. From this observation, he discovered that both Francesco and Benjamin were going home, but Deacon was staying at the school. He seemed _much_ less excited about the holiday than his two best mates.

What he was also able to discover was that Sirius was the only one of the four marauders who were staying at the school. Remus Lupin was a maybe, but Regulus suspected that he was most likely leaving.

It was while Regulus was observing the other students's behavior, that a rather thick and scratchy looking jumper was dropped onto the table in front of him. Startled by the sudden article of clothing, he jumped back, and his shoulder blades hit something solid.

Regulus whipped his head around, and he came face to face with Carson Nott.

"Hey, little Black," Carson dropped onto the bench next to Regulus, keeping his legs pointing away from the table and leaning back against the thick wood behind him. He propped his elbows up on the table on either side of himself, grinning at Regulus.

"Hi?" Regulus said, and he pointed to the jumper that was folded up next to his plate of lunch. "What's this?"

"Your Christmas jumper for the party tonight," Carson said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"Gillian told me that you had asked her if you could borrow a Christmas jumper for the Slug Club Christmas party, and I just so happen to have a rather ugly one laying around."

Regulus grabbed the jumper and held it up in front of himself, allowing it to unfold and hang in front of himself. It was indeed rather ugly. It was a sort of light grey color with a splattering of tiny white dots all throughout. The collar, sleeve cuffs, and bottom seem were all a dark grey, which didn't match the rest of the jumper at all. Covering the jumper itself were several different designs. The first consistent design which was dotted all over the jumper was a dark green Christmas tree. Next to or near every single tree was a brown reindeer with antlers that looked like sprigs of holly. Besprinkled over the rest of it were black and red snowflake-looking designs of varying sizes.

He looked unsurely at Carson, who was trying very hard to suppress a laugh. "You'll look spiffing," this was said with an air of laughter.

Regulus did not look spiffing.

He stared at himself in the mirror. The dorm room was empty, which he was quite glad for, because he didn't know if he could face the torment that Evan Rosier and Theodore Travers would give him.

As if on cue, the door to the dorm room opened. However, it was not Evan or Theodore, it was only Barty. Barty entered the room, took one look at Regulus, and burst out laughing.

Regulus could feel his cheeks burning.

"Shut up!" he groaned, and he dropped onto his bed.

"Oh, no, Reg, it's not... it's not that bad," but even as he said it, he couldn't stop laughing. "Merlin, I didn't think it would look that funny on you!"

Barty was right. Regulus hadn't expected it to look this bad on him, either. Carson was quite a bit taller and bulkier than Regulus, so the jumper hung loosely over him. The sleeves, if not scrunched up, reached a good two inches past his finger tips, and the bottom of the jumper hung all the way down to his mid thigh.

"I look dreadful," Regulus said.

Barty kept his mouth shut, though choking on the laugher that he was trying to suppress. "Yeah, I won't lie to you. I wouldn't really say dreadful though, just... grim."

"That's a synonym for dreadful," Regulus pointed out.

"Yeah, I know, I just hoped that you wouldn't."

"I'm a Black, remember? I've been learning stupid stuff like that since I could talk."

"Don't fret about the party," Barty stated, bringing the conversation full circle, "you won't be the only one in an ugly sweater. In fact, I doubt that yours will even be the ugliest one."

"Yeah, maybe," Regulus said, but his voice was doubtful.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Barty said dismissively.

However, when Regulus reached the common room, Carson Nott was in absolute hysterics the second his eyes landed upon Regulus. He was laughing so hard that he had to clutch his stomach, and he almost toppled forward off of the couch.

"Stop that!" hissed Gillian, who was sitting next to him. She hit him on the shoulder, though it wasn't a violent hit, it was the kind of one that a friend gives another friend. "Regulus, you look lovely," but Regulus could hear the suppressed laughter in her voice.

He was just glad that they were the only two down there - everyone else was already at dinner. Carson sat up straight again, took another look at Regulus over the top of the couch, and choked on another laugh. "Oh, Merlin, it's so much better than I thought it would be!" he wiped tears of mirth from his cheeks.

"It looks dreadful," Regulus said.

"Yeah, it does," Carson replied at the same time that Gillian said, "It doesn't!"

They looked at one another, and Gillian gave Carson a rather stern glare. "You look... spiffing..." he burst into another fit of laughter.

Regulus turned and left the common room, leaving the two older students on the couch. He was very glad to not run into anyone else on the way to Slughorn's office, and when he entered, no one seemed to take notice.

Everyone was standing in groups, mingling away with the other attendees. Regulus looked around, searching for anyone that he may recognize, but he didn't find any familiar or friendly faces. So, Regulus Black stuck to the outskirts again.

Though, on the way to the small corner, he stopped at the long table which was covered in food. He grabbed a small plate and piled it up with a few sandwiches and some pieces of fruit. The last thing he did before retreating to his hiding place was grabbing a cup of a blue-looking liquid. He wasn't really sure what it was, all he knew was that he was quite thirsty and this was one of the most appealing drinks on the table.

Regulus sat down in a chair in the corner, placed his drink and plate onto the small table beside himself, and studied the dynamic of the party. He watched Slughorn making his rounds, speaking jovially to all of his guests, trying to make connections between the students, grilling the attendees on their parents or their lives or their ambitions.

Regulus ate the last of his sandwiches and took his first sip of the strange blue drink. It was sweet, but it had a certain tang to it that tasted almost like carbonation and lemon. It wasn't terrible, but it also definitely wasn't the best thing that he had ever tasted.

"Outskirts again, eh?" Regulus hadn't noticed the tall boy approaching him until he stopped and spoke up. He looked up at Remus Lupin. Remus had his hands shoved into the pockets of his brown trousers, and he was leaned back against the book case to the right of Regulus.

Regulus nodded his head, and turned back to the party.

Remus cleared his throat. "Just a couple of wallflowers, aren't we?"

Regulus nodded again. He didn't know exactly what to say, so he resorted to staying silent.

Remus Lupin glanced down at Regulus, studying the younger boy's sweater. "Your jumper is rather distasteful, isn't it?" he commented.

Regulus looked at the jumper that Remus had decided to wear. It was a royal blue color, and had horizontal strips of white that were equally distanced apart, and between these strips were rows upon rows of differently patterned snowflakes. At the bottom of the sweater, there was what appeared to be a small landscape of mountains, and the silhouettes of dark trees. Though, the thing that caught Regulus's attention the most, was the full moon in the upper right-hand corner of the jumper, and the wolf howling at it in the bottom left.

Regulus turned his head away. "Yeah, and your jumper is rather ironic, isn't it?"

Remus Lupin froze.

Regulus Black realized what he had said, and he felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck. He didn't dare look at him.

" _What_?" Remus sounded aghast.

Regulus was silent.

Remus glanced down at his sweater, just to be sure that he hadn't somehow worn a different jumper. Sure enough, there was the wolf in the corner, howling at the full moon.

Surely Regulus Black didn't know. It had to have been a mistake, _right_?

Remus Lupin was panicking. He could feel his hands trembling, and his heart was beating so hard that he could've sworn his ribs would crack under the pressure.

He didn't know what else to do, so he ran. Well, he didn't run, but he rushed away and out of the party as fast as he could without raising suspicion. When he reached the hallway, he broke into a dead sprint. He was going as fast as his poor knees could carry him.

He could hardly breathe.

Regulus Black couldn't know. How would he know? Did Sirius tell him? Surely Sirius didn't tell him. They weren't even close anymore! But, Sirius had known. Sirius found out about Remus first year. Sirius still wanted to be close with Regulus after first year. Sirius could've told Regulus then.

Sirius had told Regulus Remus Lupin's secret.

Remus felt as though he were going to pass out. He was breathing heavily from running, but his lungs didn't seem to want to expand. It felt as though they were contracting with every breath. It was as though his ribs were cracking, his heart was expanding, and his lungs were being crushed.

He felt like he was suffocating.

He reached the common room and choked out the password, stumbling through the portrait hole and almost falling onto the carpeted floor beneath him.

"Hey, Moony, you're back!" James shouted from the couch where he and the other two marauders had been sitting.

"Why are you back already, didn't it just start?" Sirius asked.

The mere sound of Sirius's voice brought on a blinding hatred. Remus suddenly became quite unaware of the panic that was radiating throughout his body. His alarmed trembling turned to that of anger, and he looked up from where he had keeled over, meeting the blue eyes of Sirius Black. Merlin, those eyes.

"Remus? Are you alright?" Peter asked, being the first of his three friends to even notice that there was something wrong.

"Moony?" Sirius asked.

His voice. That bloody voice.

Remus drew his wand, and he stormed over to Sirius with an air of rage and indignation.

"Woah, Moony, calm down!" James called.

Remus was so blinded with rage that he barely even registered that someone else was speaking to him. He pointed his wand at Sirius's chest, and bent down so that their faces were mere inches apart.

"YOU TOLD HIM?!" Remus demanded.

Sirius was so shocked by Remus's anger and actions that he had forgotten how to speak. He opened and closed his mouth, quite resembling a fish, staring with wide eyes at the bright-red face of one of his best mates.

"HOW COULD YOU BLOODY TELL HIM?! YOU'RE A TRAITOR! YOU'RE A DIRTY FUCKING TRAITOR!"

"REMUS!" James shouted, and he quickly jumped up from the couch and gripped onto Remus's arm, trying to pull him away from Sirius.

Remus, in his fury, had suddenly become much stronger than normal. James grunted from the effort of trying to pull Remus away, and he glanced to Peter, who looked just as shocked as Sirius did.

"HELP ME, PETER!" James demanded, and Peter promptly stood from the ground and hesitantly grabbed Remus's wand arm, pulling the wand away from Sirius. It took all of the strength in both boys to successfully pull and hold back Remus, who was still fuming.

Sirius was still frozen.

"LET ME GO!" Remus shouted at his two friends, trying to pull his arms away from them.

" _NO_!" James roared. "Remus, you need to tell us what the bloody hell is going on, alright? We can't ruddy well do anything to help if we don't even know what happened, can we?" James had quickly become the mediator of the situation, and his calmness seemed to ease Peter's nerves just a bit.

"HE'S A STUPID, DIRTY, DISGUSTING TRAITOR!" Remus yelled.

"What did he do?" James asked, remaining completely calm, but still holding a firm grip on Remus's left arm.

"HE TOLD REGULUS!"

This snapped Sirius right out of the comatose state that he had been put in. The name of his younger brother had acted as a bucket of ice cold water being poured over his head, and all of his senses were suddenly heightened.

"Told Regulus what?" James asked.

"ABOUT MY - MY - _my condition_." he managed to lower his voice just enough to be sure that no one else in the whole of Gryffindor tower would hear.

James promptly released Remus's arm and turned on Sirius. " _YOU WHAT_?!" It was his turn to be angry.

"What?! No I didn't!" Sirius shouted, standing from the couch.

"THEN HOW THE BLOODY HELL DOES HE KNOW?!" Remus roared.

"He _can't_ know, because I didn't tell him!"

"He does," Remus said. He was becoming calmer by the second; he could see the genuine surprise that the news had brought on. Sirius genuinely didn't know that Regulus knew Remus's secret.

"No, no he can't. Are you sure? Absolutely positive? Without a doubt?"

"Yes," Remus replied, and he explained the interaction that had occurred between the two at the Christmas party.

Sirius had an unreadable expression on his face by the end of it. The other three were all watching him with mixed expressions.

Remus felt horrible. He had wrongly accused his best mate of betraying him. He had seen the hurt expression that had flashed through Sirius's eyes when Remus called him a traitor. Remus felt absolutely, utterly, wholly terrible.

In that moment, Remus Lupin vowed that he would never accuse any of his mates of betraying him without knowing the full story first.

Sirius, on the other hand, was having a very different set of thoughts.

_Where's my wand? I need to find my wand. What time is it? Will the Slug Club party be over yet? Will Slughorn get Regulus if I ask him to? If I say it has something to do with mother and father? Where's my wand? I need my ruddy wand._

He patted himself down, and felt the solid stick that was his wand in the inside pocket of the jacket that he was wearing. Without a word to the other three, Sirius left the common room, an air of determination radiating off of him.

The other three watched him leave, and then looked at one another in concern. They didn't know whether to follow him, or to stay back and let the events unfold.

Remus was the first to decide.

He fell heavily onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. James and Peter quickly followed, sitting on either side of him. And so, they waited.

Regulus left shortly after Remus Lupin.

He didn't know how he could've possibly been this stupid. Regulus didn't mean for Remus to find out that he knew his secret, at least not in that way. Regulus felt quite guilty for the panic that he must have induced in Remus Lupin, but there was nothing he could do now. It was while he was wandering the corridors of the dungeons, with no particular destination in mind, that someone grabbed him from behind.

He felt the collar of his sweater be clutched and pulled. Regulus's hands flew up to his neck where the front collar was ripping into his throat and constricting his breathing. He was jolted backwards, and then he felt his shoulder blades being slammed against the stone walls of the dungeons.

Regulus's breath was knocked out of him with the force by which he had been slammed into the wall, and before he could process what was going on, he felt a wand being roughly pressed into his windpipe.

"WHO TOLD YOU?!" Sirius demanded, practically trembling with rage as he stared with fiery eyes at his little brother.

"What?" was the only thing that Regulus could manage to choke out. His wand was pressed so roughly against Regulus's windpipe that he could hardly breathe around it.

"About Remus! HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT REMUS!" Sirius's face was inches from Regulus's, and he was absolutely radiating with rage.

"I found out my bloody self!" Regulus shouted, trying to push Sirius away from himself. Sirius didn't budge, and neither did his wand. In fact, his wand seemed to dig even deeper into the pale skin of his neck.

"HOW?!"

"Well it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Normal people don't just disappear every month on the full moon!"

"Who have you told?"

"What?"

"WHO HAVE YOU TOLD?! WHO KNOWS?!"

"No one! I haven't told anyone!"

Sirius scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"YES!"

Sirius could hear the sincerity in Regulus's voice, and he allowed his wand to retract and allow more breathing room for Regulus. Though, it still didn't completely leave his throat.

"You seriously haven't told anyone?"

"No, I haven't," Regulus was looking directly into Sirius's eyes, and he was suddenly reminded of the events that transpired over the summer before first year. Though, this time, Sirius could see the fear clear on Regulus's face, and he simply didn't care.

"You're not going to tell anyone," Sirius snarled, "because if you do, I swear to Merlin, Regulus, I will kill you."

There was a ringing silence. Regulus didn't know what to say. He was just so... _shocked_.

"You wouldn't," he finally managed to choke, but his voice was quiet and unsure.

"I would protect my friends before I would even _think_ to protect you again, Regulus." Sirius's voice was completely solemn. Regulus could hear the meaning behind the words, the promise.

They were silent. Regulus felt as though all of the strength had been drained from him. He stopped trying to fight Sirius, and let his arms hang limply at his sides. Sirius was staring at Regulus with a look of hatred and rage.

Finally, Sirius released the fistful of Regulus's Christmas jumper that he had been holding so as to keep Regulus pressed against the wall, and withdrew his wand from his throat. Sirius took a few steps back, his eyes fiery slits of anger.

Regulus was still.

Sirius looked his brother up and down. "You look ridiculous," he said in a hard tone of voice, and he turned to leave.

Regulus let him.

When Regulus Black reached his dorm room a few minutes later, he was very glad to find it empty. He dropped onto his bed and pulled the curtains tightly shut 'round himself.

Regulus sat in the dark for the next few hours, feeling so utterly and completely numb that he didn't even notice the ache that was still radiating from the place where Sirius's wand had been pressed to his neck. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, staring at the empty air in front of himself with an unreadable expression.

In those silent moments spent alone in the darkness of the dorm room, Sirius's words were the only things ringing through Regulus's mind.

He didn't even notice the silent tears that had fallen over his pale cheeks.

Deacon Ackland wasn't having the best of nights, either.

He, Francesco, and Benji were all sat at a table in the library. Benji was staring unsurely at Deacon, who was practically shaking from nervousness. Fran, on the other hand, was giving him an encouraging smile.

"Come on, Dea, she's gonna be staying at the school for the holiday, too! Now is as good a time as ever!" Fran said, and he placed a reassuring hand on Deacon's shoulder.

"You know, you _really_ don't have to, Dea," Benji said, looking almost as nervous as Deacon.

"What do you mean he doesn't have to? He likes her! He should just go for it!" Fran said, and he gave Benji a look that was laced with confusion.

"I'm just _saying_ , I think we're moving a little fast, aren't we?"

Francesco's eyebrows knit together in uncertainty. "He's liked her since last term! I say he just goes for it!"

"And I say he waits!"

"Well it's not your decision, is it?"

"It's not yours either, now is it, Fran?"

"Guys," Deacon mumbled, noticing the tension that was rising between his two friends, "don't fight."

"We aren't fighting!" They both exclaimed at the same time. They looked at one another, and Francesco ceded.

"Dea, I'm not saying that you have to ask her out now. If you're too nervous, I get it. I just think that it would be better to do it sooner rather than later, and since you're both staying for the holiday, it's the perfect time!"

"But, if you don't want to, that's completely fine too," Benji added hastily.

Deacon groaned, and he shot a glance towards the table of girls on the opposite side of the library. Clementine, Lottie, Lennox, a first year Gryffindor named Natalia Byrne, and a Ravenclaw second year named Amalia Khan were all talking excitedly to one another, pouring over the newest edition of a magazine that Deacon didn't know the name of.

"Deacon?" Benji said, and his eyes flitted towards Francesco for a fraction of a second. "It's ok if you don't want to."

Deacon looked at Fran, too, who was giving him a smile of reassurance. _Merlin_ , Deacon thought to himself, _that stupid, perfect, electrifying smile._

Deacon studied the straightness of Francesco's teeth, and the way that his lips curved into the smile that he was giving him. He was convinced that that smile, that stupid smile, could get him to do anything in the world.

He stood from the table.

Benji let out a groan of disapproval, and Francesco let out a quiet whooping cheer of approval.

"Good luck!" Fran said excitedly.

Benji buried his face in his hands and shook his head.

Deacon took a deep breath, and walked apprehensively towards the other table. The girls all ceased in their conversation when they noticed Deacon approaching, and gave him a warm smile.

"Hullo, Deacon," Lennox said, and she gave him a warm smile.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"What can we do for you?" Lottie asked in a friendly tone of voice, also smiling at the boy.

"Uh - I was actually - er - Clementine, can I talk to you? If not, that's totally fine, it's just that I-" Deacon had a habit of stuttering and trailing off when he was particularly anxious, and this time was no different.

"Of course we can talk," Clementine said, and she quickly stood from the table. "Shall we go outside?"

Deacon nodded his head, and the two of them walked towards the hall outside of the library.

Benji was watching through the gaps between his fingers. _Idiot_ , he thought to himself, _Francesco is a bloody idiot_.

"Do you think she'll say yes?" Fran asked Benji, his eyes excitedly following the two second years.

"I hope she doesn't," Benji muttered.

Francesco's head snapped towards Benji, and he gave him an odd look. "What do you mean? Why don't you want her to say yes?"

Benji turned red. He needed to find a way to backtrack without accidentally revealing too much of Deacon's secret. "Uh - I don't know, I just, I don't know if they'll work well together."

"Why wouldn't they work well together? They're both really nice, and they have similar personalities. They're practically carbon copies of one another." Fran pointed out.

"Yeah, exactly! Sometimes, it's - er - it's better if opposites attract."

Francesco raised a skeptical brow. "What are you on about?"

"Nothing," Benji said with a sigh, and he threw his head back so he was staring directly at the ceiling of the library.

_Honestly, Deacon, how could you ever love someone that bloody thick?_

As if on cue, Deacon suddenly dropped back down into his seat. Both boys whipped their heads towards him, and both noticed the absolutely petrified expression that he wore.

"Well? What did she say?!" Fran asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

"She said yes," Deacon said.

"Oh Merlin!" His two friends said at the same time, though they both said it in very different tones of voice.

Sirius stopped outside of McGonagall's office that night on the way back from the dungeons. He knocked frantically on her door, and then set to pacing back and forth in front of it. He had come to the decision on his way up. He needed to be absolutely certain that Regulus wouldn't tell anyone about Remus over holiday.

The door to the office opened, and McGonagall looked at Sirius with a surprised expression. "Mr. Black. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need to go home, Professor," Sirius said, and he pushed his way into the office without invitation.

"No, Mr. Black, absolutely not. We are not doing this again." McGonagall said firmly.

"Again? Whatever do you mean, Professor?" Sirius asked, feigning innocence.

"You know very well what I mean, Mr. Black. You pulled this same stunt last year. In fact, it was a scene rather similar to this, wasn't it?"

"Professor, please, it's urgent. I have to go." Sirius, if he hadn't already been sat in the chair across from McGonagall, would've been on his hands and knees, begging. Even now, he wasn't past it.

McGonagall let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "And, I don't suppose this has anything to do with your brother, Regulus?"

Sirius was quiet. This was enough of an answer for McGonagall. "No, Mr. Black. You already said that you were staying here, and I am not changing it again," her voice was firm.

"Please, Professor, I'm begging you. I have to go home. I have to... to keep an eye on him."

"Keep an eye on him? Why?"

"Because, Professor, I just do! Please!"

McGonagall could see the genuine look of worry in her student's eye, and she gave in. With a heavy sigh, she pulled the parchment which listed the students who were both staying and going home. Similar to the year prior, she crossed out _Staying_ and wrote _Going Home_ in its place.

"This will not become a yearly occurrence, Mr. Black. In fact, I can promise you, this will never happen again. Are we understood?" she asked as she was rolling the parchment back up and putting it back in its rightful spot.

"Yes, Professor. Thank you. I mean it, truly. Thank you." Sirius's voice was sincere.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Black. Now, run along, I expect your friends must be missing you."

The Slytherin common room was full at midnight.

Barty, Regulus, Gillian, and Carson were sharing one of the couches, while everyone else was strewn across the floor and other bits of furniture. Regulus hadn't spoken a word since his encounter with Sirius hours earlier. Barty had tried to ask him what was wrong, but he received no response.

Gillian, who was sitting to the right of Regulus, noticed his odd behavior as well.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, leaning closer to him so that no one else would hear.

Regulus nodded his head numbly.

"No you aren't. What's the matter?"

Regulus shook his head.

Gillian furrowed her brow in concern, and then leaned over to her other side so she was whispering to Carson instead.

"Do you know what's wrong with Regulus?" she asked.

Carson leaned forward and glanced at the younger boy. "No? He's still got on the jumper," he commented. He leaned back again and stared directly at Gillian. _Wow_ , Carson thought, _she's bloody gorgeous._

"You have no idea what could be wrong? He didn't say anything earlier?"

Carson shook his head. "No. Perhaps he's just tired?"

"Maybe..." but Gillian didn't believe that at all.

Corban Yaxley cleared his throat as a means to start the meeting. Everyone turned and gave he and Walden Macnair their full attention.

"Alright, let's just get this started, shall we?" Yaxley said, and he looked around at everyone in front of him as he continued to speak. "Have any of you come up with any useful information at all?"

The room was silent.

Yaxley sighed, and Macnair grimaced at the group. "You lot have had an entire year, and you couldn't come up with a single ruddy piece of information?"

"I think I have something," piped up Valeria Moss.

"Go on?" Yaxley said.

"Well, I don't know if it's useful per say, but Dumbledore seems to be leaving the castle a lot recently, right?"

Everyone muttered in agreement to her statement. Dumbledore had, indeed, left more times this term than the past few terms combined. It seemed like he was gone for at least one day each week.

"So," she continued, "if we can find a pattern to which days he leaves, then the Dark Lord can have a clearer idea of when he can and can't enact the plan."

Yaxley and Macnair both nodded their heads. "Yes, that is rather useful. Good job, Valerie," Macnair said.

"It's Valeria," she said.

Macnair didn't take notice. "Alright, so a few of you should be assigned the task of figuring out Dumbledore's schedule or pattern for leaving. Any volunteers?"

A few hands shot up into the air. "Excellent. You five will be the... the Dumbledore group."

"We should put the rest of you into groups, too," Yaxley said.

"What could the groups be?" Macnair muttered to him.

Yaxley thought a moment. "Ok, we need a group to investigate the new Defense teacher."

"Why?" Mason Avery asked.

"Because, she's an auror, isn't she? She obviously isn't just here for the ruddy teaching position. There's got to be more."

"She said she owed Dumbledore a favor," Regulus croaked. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

"A favor? What kind of favor?" Macnair asked.

Regulus shrugged. "Dunno. She just said that she and a few other people owed Dumbledore a favor, which is why they were so intent on making it work that she was able to teach here."

"She could be part of the Resistance," Goyle suggested.

"She could be," mused Yaxley, and he turned to Regulus. "Excellent job, Black." Regulus swelled with pride. "Ok, so this group will be tasked with discovering why she owes Dumbledore a favor, and to find out more about her. Volunteers?"

Four hands. "Great. You lot will be the Defense teacher group."

"Next, we should get a group who can get names of the most powerful people here. The schools most powerful defenders in the case of an attack. Professors, aurors in the Resistance, particularly talented students, people in Hogsmeade, those sort."

Six hands. "Great. Divide the categories between yourselves or something," Macnair said.

"Finally, we need a group to gather intel on the school. Evacuation protocols, defensive measures, responses to attacks, et cetera. Anyone?"

Regulus, Barty, Gillian, Carson, Evan Rosier, and Severus Snape were the only remaining students without an assigned group. So, all six of their hands shot up.

"Alright. Now that we've divided you into groups, get your tasks done. We'll most likely meet again towards the end of term, I'm not sure. Everyone understand?" a splattering of understanding and approval. "Excellent. The meeting is over."

The students within the room instinctually broke off into their groups to start planning a course of action. Rosier and Snape scooted over so that they were sitting on the floor in front of the couch instead of where they had been previously.

"Who wants to do what?" Carson asked.

Silence.

"I can try to read up on the schools defensive measures over holiday?" Regulus suggested.

"Great. Regulus has got defenses, anyone else?"

"I can try to ask my mum if she knows anything? My dad's a Ministry official, he might tell her the things that he knows about it," Barty said.

"Very good. The two of us are staying for the holiday, so we'll see if we can learn anything from Slughorn," Carson said, and he gestured to himself and Gillian.

Regulus looked at Gillian with a raised eyebrow and a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth. She discreetly hit his arm, though she couldn't keep the smile that was playing on her lips at bay.

"That leaves you two," Carson said, and he looked to the two boys on the floor.

Rosier and Snape looked to one another. "We can try to read up on stuff, too?" Severus suggested.

"Alright, that'll do. Ok, everyone has a task. We'll talk about what we discovered when the break is over."

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Carson let out a yawn, and he reached his arms up into the air to stretch. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you lot later," he stood from the couch, and was just about to begin towards the boys's dormitory staircase, when he remembered something.

"Oh, Regulus," he turned to look at the younger boy, "you can keep the jumper."

Regulus looked down at the Christmas jumper that he was still wearing. "Oh - er - thanks," he said.

Carson nodded, and he managed to keep the laughter from escaping his lips.

That night, Regulus held that very jumper in his arms as he laid down to go to sleep. Yes, the jumper itself was quite atrocious, but nevertheless, the meaning behind it was enough to make his heart swell. Carson likely meant the gift to be a joke, but it still meant a lot to Regulus. The gifting of the jumper seemed to ease the sadness that Regulus felt when he thought about what had transpired between he and his older brother earlier that night.

In fact, ever since that event, Regulus had begun to see quite a few things differently.

Carson Nott was only one of these examples.

However, the most prevalent example of this behavioral change, was the Dark Lord himself. Regulus found himself doubting the Dark Lord much less, and it was as though he had obtained a renewed vigor for the work that he would ultimately be doing for him.

Yes, this exchange with Sirius Black had certainly changed a lot.


	34. Mordax

Regulus Black wasn't an idiot. He knew that Sirius was watching him like a hawk.

Kreacher would mysteriously be called away once an hour every single day. He had caught on by the second time that Kreacher was called away on the first day of break. Regulus had been suspecting that the only reason Sirius had come back was to keep an eye on him and ensure that he didn't tell anyone about Remus, but Kreacher's disappearances confirmed it.

Regulus knew Sirius's schedule like clockwork. He would call Kreacher every single hour on the dot. So, at one minute 'til, Regulus would tell Kreacher exactly what to tell Sirius.

It wasn't that Regulus was trying to hide what he was doing from Sirius, it was just that...

Well, actually, that's exactly what it was.

Since the very first day back, Regulus had been pouring himself into book after book. He was focused on three topics, specifically.

Hogwarts defensive measures, Occlumency, and Animagi.

Regulus was determined to know everything he could about all three subjects.

Hogwarts defensive measures for obvious reasons. It was his task - his duty - to discover as much about them as he could for his group, and for the Dark Lord himself.

Occlumency, again, for obvious reasons. He needed to keep the prying of Severus Snape to a minimum. Not only was it annoying, but it was also becoming increasingly more dangerous with every secret that Regulus Black uncovered. If he wanted any chance of keeping these secrets to himself, he needed to learn how to close his mind.

Animagi were the third, and most surprising, subject. Regulus still wanted to know just what his brother was trying to hide from Remus Lupin, especially considering how protective Sirius Black had proved himself to be over the boy.

So, Regulus would order Kreacher to lie.

As far as Sirius knew, Regulus had spent the whole of holiday break so far either napping, playing various games with Kreacher, doing holiday homework, or else reading about various subjects, of which Kreacher was never allowed to specify.

It was on Christmas morning, 1973, that anything in the Black family house dynamic even slightly changed.

Regulus awoke with the sun that morning. He hopped out of bed in excitement, and padded over to the window with stockinged feet. He tore open the dark green curtains, opened the window, and breathed in the cold winters air that filled his room.

With a sigh of relief, Regulus sat down on the rather thick windowsill and leaned back against the frame, staring at the world outside. Regulus had taken to doing this every morning, for it was in these moments that Regulus felt a true and genuine sense of peace.

The fresh air that flowed through the room, replacing the stale and musty smell that had found itself engrained in the very atoms of the room itself, it seemed. The light breeze and billowing of the curtains at Regulus's side. The wintery landscape that Regulus could see outside if he craned his neck just the right way.

In truth, Regulus had always loved the snow. It held a sort of innocence about itself. Clean, untouched, pure. For as long as he could remember, he would beg his older brother to go play in the snow outside with him. Regulus and Sirius would spend hour after hour playing in the fluffy white frozen substance. They had a habit of making families of snowmen, and then sitting on the porch, admiring their work, and giving them little backstories. Were they like the Black family? No, no the snow families were never like the Blacks. They loved each other. They took care of each other. The snow families were carefree and happy and oblivious to the terrors that would await their makers as soon as they stepped back into the darkness of their own home.

Sirius always promised that, one day, he and Regulus would be just like those snow families.

As the years passed, the snow families began to appear less like a hope to the boys - less like a dream - and more of a taunting reminder. The snow families stopped being made in 1970, just before Sirius left for Hogwarts.

They would always pour their joy and their hopefulness and their love for one another into those snow families, because they seemed to be overflowing with it. As the years dragged on, they lost these qualities. These qualities depleted at such a rapid rate, that neither of the boys could even think about ever pouring so much of it out of themselves again. They barely had enough of it to keep themselves going.

But, if Regulus closed his eyes on that windowsill, and he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel it. He could almost feel the emotions and the experiences that came with those beloved childhood winters. He could feel peace. Oh, Regulus hadn't felt peace like the one that he experienced on these early mornings since long before Sirius left for Hogwarts.

Thinking back on those winters, the way that they changed, Regulus could almost chart the loss of childhood innocence in he and his brother. The snow families stopped holding their dreams of becoming a big happy family, and instead held the burden of knowing that they never truly would be.

Yes, if Regulus thought back far enough, he could almost pinpoint exactly when everything started to change, and to morph into what he now called his normal, everyday life.

Regulus wondered if Sirius ever thought back on those moments as a way to find peace. No, no Sirius didn't have to. Sirius had a group of amazing friends, friends who took care of each other and loved one another. Sirius Black was living in a constant beam of peace, and leaving his little brother behind in the shadows.

Kreacher appeared with _CRACK!_ beside Regulus, and he knew that his time for relaxation was over.

He opened his eyes and smiled at the old elf, who was standing on a little table a few feet from where Regulus sat. "Good morning, Kreacher. How are you?"

"Kreacher is being very good, Master Regulus!" Kreacher replied, flapping his ears and hopping from foot to foot happily. "How is you, Master Regulus?"

Regulus shrugged. "I'm alright, Kreacher."

Kreacher's ears died down in their flapping, and the old elf cocked his big head. "Is something being the matter?"

"No," Regulus said, and he didn't elaborate any further on the subject.

"What would you be liking for breakfast, Master Regulus?" Kreacher asked after a few moments of silence had passed between the two.

Regulus thought for a moment. "Just some oatmeal will do," he finally responded.

"Ok, Kreacher will go make oatmeal for his Master Regulus," and he disappeared with a _CRACK!_

Regulus took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the frame of the window, closing his eyes. His sense of peace and ease had been broken by the appearance of the house elf, but that didn't stop Regulus from trying to get back to it. After a few moments of lost efforts, Regulus ceded and hopped off of the windowsill.

The hardwood floor was cold, but Regulus's thick woolen socks shielded him from it, if only just by a little bit. He dropped down onto his bed, crossed his legs, and pulled out a slip of parchment from beneath his pillow.

On this paper, he had a large t-chart. The two sides of this chart weren't correlated at all, aside from the fact that they were two of the three subjects that he was researching.

**_Defensive measures at Hogwarts_**   
_-suits of armor can be animated with Piertotum Locomotor_  
 _-charms on the gates of the school that detects anyone coming in and out_  
 _-secret passageways?_

**_Animagi_**   
_-ability to become an animal at will_  
 _-complicated process of becoming an Animagus_  
 _-can't choose Animagus form_  
 _-have to be registered_

Regulus, truthfully, didn't have much information on either of the subjects. He thought that he had enough on the Hogwarts defensive measures for now, or at least, as much as he could get from the books alone.

The Animagi research was a different story. He had found a book in his mother's library that detailed how to become an Animagus (why Walburga Black had a book about how to become an Animagus in her library, he would never know). For this reason, he now knew exactly what an Animagus was, as well as details of the process of becoming one.

It was some of the most complicated magic that Regulus had seen in his 12 short years of life so far. The real question that this process posed, however, was why the hell Sirius wanted to do it. Why did Sirius and his mates want to become Animagi, and why were they hiding it from Remus Lupin?

Surely they weren't stupid enough to be doing it so that they could try to accompany Remus on full moons. That would be absolutely ridiculous! Although, at the same time, it was the only thing that really made sense.

Kreacher appeared back on the foot of Regulus's bed a few moments later, holding a small tray. Regulus smiled at the house elf and quickly stowed the paper back underneath his pillow. Kreacher walks forward excitedly, placing the tray on the bed in front of Regulus.

On the tray was a small bowl with oatmeal that had a few blueberries mixed in. Next to the bowl was a white mug with what appeared to be tea inside, and some silverware. Regulus looked at Kreacher, who was habitually wringing his hands in front of himself.

"Thank you very much, Kreacher," Regulus said, and he gingerly picked up a spoon to begin eating his breakfast. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Master Regulus!" Kreacher exclaimed. "Is you be looking forward to your presents?"

"Yes, Kreacher, I am," Regulus responded, and he put a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

When Regulus was finished with breakfast, Kreacher took his dishes, along with the tray, back down to the kitchen. Regulus sighed, knowing that he would be best to go downstairs sooner rather than later.

He slipped on his robe, tied it 'round his waist, and stepped out onto the decrepit landing that held both he and Sirius's bedroom doors. Regulus cringed at the smell that entered his nose as soon as he crossed the threshold. Gone was the freshness of the outside air, and back was the old air that smelled as though it had been there since Number 12 was first built.

The creak on the landing is what gave him away first.

He was halfway across, wincing at every single creak and groan that escaped from the old floorboards beneath his feet, when Sirius's bedroom door swung open. Sirius stepped out onto the landing, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

Regulus took in the gold and red pyjamas that Sirius was wearing. It appeared that, similar to his bed spread, he had magicked the dark green away and made them something much more to his liking. Regulus only spent a few seconds looking at his brother before he turned back forward and continued along his intended path.

"Where are you going?" Sirius asked, following closely behind him.

"Downstairs," Regulus replied in a cold tone of voice.

"Why?" Sirius sounded suspicious.

"It's Christmas, you idiot," Regulus responded, and he started down the long and rickety staircase.

Sirius scoffed, and Regulus could hear the grate of the stairs behind him, indicating that Sirius was still following. "What, are you going to have a nice little Christmas breakfast with mummy and daddy?"

"I already ate breakfast," Regulus replied through clenched teeth, becoming more and more annoyed by Sirius's presence by the second.

"Ok, well then why are you going downstairs?" Sirius pressed.

Regulus stopped on the stairs suddenly, catching Sirius off guard and causing him to slam right into Regulus. Luckily, Regulus had expected this, so he was able to stay firmly on the stairs. He rounded on his brother, glaring at him with as much intensity as he could muster.

"I don't have to tell you everything! Merlin, just leave me alone!" Regulus snapped.

Sirius looked at his brother with a condescending sneer. "I can't leave you alone, you little roach. I have to make sure that you don't tell anyone about-"

"About what? What exactly are you trying to keep a secret today, hm? Your little werewolf best friend? Or, perhaps, where exactly you were last Christmas? Oh, or, or maybe it's the fact that you want to become a bloody Animagus just so that you can try to accompany your werewolf mate on the full moons! Which one is it, Sirius? Which bloody thing are you trying to-"

" _MORDAX_!" Sirius shouted, and Regulus let out a yelp of pain as a sharp pain and a sudden stinging sensation erupted up his right arm.

He tugged up the sleeve of his pyjamas and his robe, clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth at the pain that was still searing there. There were splotches of coloration that coated his forearm, all spreading from a yellowy-orange color to bright red. His skin felt as though it were sizzling, and the splotches on his arm were becoming bigger and brighter before their very eyes.

He looked at Sirius, who was staring, mouth agape, at Regulus's arm. He looked at his younger brother with a look of sympathy and guilt, dropping his wand onto the stairs.

"Regulus, I'm so-" Sirius began, but Regulus cut him off.

"Don't," he snapped, trying to keep his voice from wobbling from the emotion and pain that was welling up inside of him. "I know you won't bloody mean it."

"No, Regulus, Regulus I - I didn't mean to-"

Regulus rolled his eyes, willing himself to keep the tears that were threatening to escape right where they belonged. "Shut up, Sirius," he yanked his sleeve down, biting his tongue so as not to let out another cry of pain.

Sirius didn't know what to say, so he stayed completely silent. Regulus turned without another word, rushing down the stairs and away from his older brother. It wasn't until he reached the landing which held Walburga's library that he stopped. He rushed off to the side, out of the line of sight of Sirius, and dropped down to the floor.

Regulus pressed his back against the wall behind him, gingerly rolling his sleeves back up. The redness of the splotches had dialed down, but the pain certainly hadn't. Regulus grappled for his wand, glad that he had remembered to grab it from his bedside table before he left his room.

He focused very, very hard. He had only seen this spell cast once before by Andromeda.

_Regulus was eight at the time, and he had fallen while he and Sirius were playing outside. Andromeda, being the only one near enough to see, rushed over to the boys as quickly as she could. Regulus was crying, and Sirius was trying desperately to comfort him, assuring him that everything would be alright._

_"Oh, it's not too bad, just a scrape is all!" Andromeda said, examining the bloody gash on Regulus's knee._

_"See, Reggie, it's ok!" Sirius exclaimed._

_"Nothing a little bandaging won't fix..." Andromeda raised her wand, and uttered the spell._

" _Ferula_ ," Regulus muttered, and a spray of bandages erupted from his wand, wrapping themselves around his arm.

Sure, they weren't anywhere near as tightly wrapped and neat as they could be, but they still worked. The pain in his arm eased, and he let out a sigh of relief. Though, now that the pain was better, he was forced to think about what had just happened.

Sirius had never hexed Regulus before. Not even once. Sure, he had threatened to, just like Regulus had threatened to hex him, but neither of them had ever done it. Granted, even Regulus had to admit that he was being a little unfair when the hexing had taken place, but that didn't alleviate the pang in his chest.

Regulus subconsciously brought his hand up to his throat, where a small bruise had formed from where Sirius's wand had been pressed just days before. Regulus dropped his hand and rested his head against the wall behind him, willing the tears to keep from falling down his cheeks.

The rest of Christmas was just as unpleasant as the first few hours.

Opening the presents that his mother and father had placed in the corner of the sitting room was a bit more of a challenge than normal. The pain in his arm, while it was toned down by the bandages that were messily wrapped around it, made it much weaker than it normally would be.

To top it off, his mother and father had decided to go to Malfoy Manor for dinner that night. Well, whether it was a choice of theirs or a command of the Dark Lord, Regulus didn't know. But, either way, they sent Kreacher to tell him to get ready that afternoon.

Regulus didn't put much effort into dressing. He put on a pair of black trousers, black dress shoes, a white oxford, and a black vest over that. He hadn't put much effort into his hair, either, so it hung in curly strands 'round his head.

Regulus was sitting on his bed, staring out of his still-open window at the brick wall of Number 11 Grimmauld Place, when Kreacher appeared at the foot of his bed.

"Mistress is be asking Kreacher to come get Master Regulus," Kreacher said, and he reached out a wrinkly hand for Regulus to grab for a quick side-along apparation.

Regulus hesitated for a moment before grabbing it, thinking about the bandages that were still wrapped around his sore arm. "Is Master Regulus alright?" Kreacher asked, noticing the hesitation in the boy and lowering his hand.

"Yes, Kreacher, I'm fine," Regulus replied. "Hey, can you do healing magic?"

"Healing magic?" Kreacher asked, cocking his head and wringing his hands nervously. "Minor healing, yes."

Regulus nodded, pulled up the right sleeve of his shirt, and gently unravelled the bandages that wrapped his forearm. Kreacher let out a croaky squeak of a gasp, and his hands flew up to his mouth.

"Would you please heal this for me, Kreacher?" Regulus asked.

Kreacher promptly nodded his head, and he withdrew his old hands from his mouth. Regulus watched as the elf silently moved his hands down Regulus's forearm, and was amazed to see the splotches of discoloration disappearing before his very eyes. When Kreacher was done, Regulus's forearm was back to its normal color, and the pain had completely ceased.

He looked at the elf gratefully. "Thank you, Kreacher."

"It is being no problem, Master Regulus. Kreacher is glad to be making Master Regulus feel better," Kreacher said.

Regulus tugged the sleeve of his shirt back down, relieved by the lack of stinging. "Ok, Kreacher, I'm ready to go," he reached out a hand, which Kreacher took, and the two of the apparated downstairs.

Malfoy Manor wasn't anywhere as beautiful as it had looked at Lucius and Narcissa's wedding. It was a dark and dreary day in the part of England that the manor was located, which didn't help the already dark and drab looking mansion.

Regulus, Walburga, and Orion Black arrived to the front gates at seven o'clock sharp.

Walburga and Orion barely had to take any time to compose themselves before continuing towards the front stoop. Regulus, however, took much more. He had never liked side-along apparation much, and had actively tried to avoid it whenever he could.

He stumbled when they first appeared, and it took a few moments before the nausea and dizziness ceased.

"Come along, Regulus, we mustn't keep them waiting," Walburga ordered, and Regulus promptly followed along behind his parents.

The Black's were led into the dining room by a rather small looking house elf. At first, Regulus thought that it was Popsy, whom he had met at the wedding, but he realized rather quickly that it wasn't.

The dining room was big and dark. There was an abnormally long table, lined with what had to have been almost fifty seats. Along the middle of the table were plates upon plates full of food, and candles that lit up the otherwise dark room. There was a glass chandelier hanging over the table, but it didn't appear to be giving off any light whatsoever.

The table was lined in people, some of whom Regulus didn't recognize at all. Sitting at the head of the table, giving the newly arrived guests a rather charming smile, was the Dark Lord himself.

"Ah, glad you could make it," he said. His voice seemed to be raspier than Regulus remembered it from the summer, and it sent a chill down his spine. "Sit, please," he continued, and he gestured to three empty seats which were all side by side.

The Black family assumed their seats, and Regulus glanced at the people around him. Beside him on his right was his mother, who was to the left of his father. On Regulus's left was Wilfred Rosier, who had Evan Rosier sitting to his left. Directly across from Regulus was Narcissa, who had Lucius to her left and Cygnus Black to her right.

Narcissa flashed Regulus a smile, which he returned. He glanced down the table on either side, trying to get a feel for just who was there and who wasn't. He could see both Carson and Gillian's parents, but Carson and Gillian were no where to be seen. Regulus suddenly remembered that they had decided to stay at the school for the holiday, and he looked away from their parents quickly. Corban Yaxley was sitting beside his mother, who was staring at the Dark Lord with adoration clear on her face. Bellatrix was sitting beside her husband, Rudolphus Lestrange, and his brother Rabastan. The most notable person, aside from everyone he had already seen, was Severus Snape. He was sitting a ways down the table, beside his mother, but he was glaring at Regulus nonetheless.

Regulus sent a grimace his way, and then turned back to the plate of food in front of him.

The food at Malfoy Manor was odd. It was all savory and thick, so savory and thick that it was hard to eat. Regulus couldn't eat more than half of his plate without getting a stomachache, so he quickly pushed it away from himself and took a gulp of pumpkin juice. The pumpkin juice was weird, too. It had an odd aftertaste, like lemon, almost. It didn't mesh well with the juice, so Regulus set it down and didn't take another drink for the rest of dinner.

Everyone around the table seemed to be having a different conversation. Most of them were talking about various different things that the Dark Lord had planned, but they were all careful not to say too much, especially with so many Hogwarts students in the room. They never knew if one of them could be working for Dumbledore himself.

Regulus tried to tune himself out of the conversations, resorting himself to staring at the flicker of one of the candles in front of him. He studied the way that the wax melted from the heat of the flame and dripped down the sides of the candlestick. That's when Regulus first noticed the feeling.

He let out an irritated sigh, glancing down the table. Sure enough, Severus Snape was looking at him in concentration. Though, what Severus didn't know, was that this offered Regulus the perfect opportunity to practice what he had learned.

Regulus closed his eyes, and he concentrated very, very hard. He imagined there being a box inside of his head, in the middle of a dark room with his thoughts scattered all along the floor. He imagined himself picking up those thoughts - the ones that he wanted to conceal the most - and placing them inside of the box. Once all of his most precious secrets and thoughts were stored safely in the box, he closed it and locked it with an odd looking black skeleton key.

When he opened his eyes, he quickly glanced down the table, and found Severus Snape with a rather odd expression on his face. His brow was furrowed in confusion and concentration, and he was eyeing Regulus suspiciously. That's when Regulus noticed that the feeling inside of his head had dimmed, and he could feel Severus having to work harder to get to even Regulus's surface thoughts.

He swelled with pride. It had worked. Well, not completely, but he was at least getting better at it.

It was at this moment that the Dark Lord decided to stand from his chair. All activity in the room ceased, and even Severus broke his attention back to the Dark Lord. He looked up and down the table of his followers in satisfaction.

"Thank you all for coming," he said in a calm and collected tone of voice.

"Of course, my lord," rippled through the crowd.

"Now, I will admit, this little dinner party is not the only reason that I asked you all here." He paused, taking in the faces of all of the attendees. "I would kindly ask that you all send the... _children_ , outside." He said this with a lilt of distaste.

Walburga turned to Regulus, and she nodded her head. He was the first to be up. Narcissa stood, too, and turned to the Dark Lord. "I will show them a place to go, my lord," she said, and she bowed her head.

"Yes, yes, whatever you must do," the Dark Lord said, and he waved a dismissive hand.

Narcissa walked to the door that Regulus and his parents had come through to enter the dining room, and she gestured for all of the kids to follow along. Regulus hastened over to her, followed by many others.

She led them out of the dining room, through a long hallway, and into a library. There were groups of seats around the room, and Regulus stared around in awe. It had to be at least double the size of the library at Number 12! Everyone filed in and then broke off into groups, staying in the same groups that they would've if they had been at school.

Just before Narcissa left the room, she turned to Regulus. "Regulus, may I speak to you a moment?"

Most of the others didn't even notice this, but Evan Rosier and Severus Snape certainly did.

Regulus nodded, and Narcissa led him out of the room, down yet another hallway, and into a small study. She shut the door behind them, quietly so that, if someone had been following them, they wouldn't know exactly which room they had entered. She turned to face him, a serous expression on her face.

"Regulus, why have you been writing to Andromeda?" she asked. Her tone was stern.

Regulus felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck. "I - I haven't. What do you mean?"

"Don't lie to me, Regulus, it's just going to waste both of our time. Time, might I add, that we don't have. I have to be back to the meeting soon, and-"

Panic rose up in Regulus. "Don't think about it!"

Her brows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean 'don't think about it'?"

"If you think about it, he'll know! He'll know that I was doing it, and that you knew and didn't tell anyone!"

She gave him an unbelieving expression. "How on earth would he know that, Regulus?"

"He's a Legilimens, remember? He can read minds!"

Narcissa's attitude didn't seem to change. "Alright, then I won't think about it. That still doesn't answer the question of why you were doing it."

"How do you even know about it?"

Narcissa raised her chin, a reaction that Regulus recognized as one of defensiveness. "She - she wrote to me. I burned the letter, of course, I can't be seen with a letter from a blood traitor like her. She said inside of it that the news she was giving to me, she had already given you. So, Regulus, how do you supposed you already know about said news?"

Regulus felt his cheeks burning. He hung his head and scuffed the tip of his shoes on the carpet. "I wrote to her in September. I was asking what to do about Sirius."

Narcissa let out a sigh of irritation and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Regulus, I told you to leave that alone. You're going to have to get used to not being close with him."

"Yeah, I know. It's just... I don't know what I was thinking. At the time, I thought... I thought there was a chance that we could... you know... be brothers again," his voice was a mere whisper by the end, and he could feel emotion welling up inside of him.

Narcissa's look turned to one of sympathy and curiosity. "But you don't anymore?"

Regulus shook his head quite vigorously, swallowing the lump that was clawing its way up his throat. "No. No, there's no chance."

"You're certain?"

He looked up at her through bleary eyes, and nodded his head. "Without a doubt," his voice was thick with emotion.

"Oh, Regulus," Narcissa said gently, placing a comforting hand on her younger cousin's shoulder and leaning down so that they were at eye level. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know how much it hurts. To realize that you'll never be the same again."

Regulus nodded slowly, silently begging the tears to stay inside of his eyes. This, Regulus realized quite sadly, was at least the third time that day that he had had to stop himself from crying. All because of Sirius. He sniffed and wiped the snot that had started to trickle down his face with the back of his hand.

"This is for the better, Regulus. You need to know that," Narcissa said in a comforting tone. "I know it hurts right now, but it will get better. I can promise you, it _will_ get better. I promise. It's for the best." her voice was low and caring.

Regulus looked directly into her eyes, and he gave her a small smile. "You're going to be a great mum one day," he said, just above a breath.

She smiled at him. "And you're going to be an excellent cousin to the lucky little boy or girl," she said. She stood up straight, though she kept her hand on his shoulder. "Better?"

The urge to cry had become less overwhelming, so he nodded his head. "Excellent. Let's get you back to the library, shall we?" she slid her hand from his shoulder to his back, and she led him back to the room. They stopped just outside of the door, and she withdrew her hand. "I'll see you later, Regulus. And, don't worry," she added, noticing the signs that he was about to speak. "I won't think about it."

He gave her a grateful smile. She returned the gesture, and then hastened back to the dining room. When Regulus entered the room, it was to find that everyone was still divided up into their groups.

He dropped down into a chair that was in a far corner, away from everyone else, and took a deep breath. He could still feel the emotion inside of himself; the pang in his chest, the lump that was still sitting at the base of his throat, the slight trembling of his hands, the pressure and odd pain in his nose. He closed his eyes and sank into the seat, letting the emotions stir.

He figured that, if he didn't fully assess what had happened between he and Sirius earlier that day, then it would only make things worse. So, he replayed the event in his head.

Regulus Black had always been one to hold onto hope. To cling onto it until there was a mere thread holding him up. He and Sirius both, really. However, what had happened earlier, it truly felt like the last straw. It was as though the hex that Sirius had used on Regulus had struck that last string right at the most sensitive point, and the string just... snapped.

Severus Snape and Evan Rosier were watching him from afar. Severus, at dinner that day, had been able to deduce that something had happened between Regulus and his brother. Though, Regulus had exercised his rather weak Occlumency before Severus could figure out what it was about, or what happened. Now, however, Regulus's mind seemed weak. Severus Snape took his chance.

"Well?" Evan Rosier whispered impatiently.

Severus Snape pulled out of Regulus Black's mind, all of the information that he needed in his grasp. "I don't know what they were fighting about, its fuzzy. But Sirius hexed him."

"With what?"

"Mordax."

Evan Rosier couldn't help but allow a chuckle to escape his lips. "Awe, the ickle baby got the stinging hex? Poor little thing. Did he cry?"

"Wanted to," Severus said, amusement lacing his cold voice.

"Ok, so what do we do?" Evan Rosier asked.

Severus Snape thought a moment, and then it dawned on him. A twisted smile crept onto his face, and he looked at Rosier. "We use it."

Regulus was bored. He was sitting in the chair, counting the wooden beams that stretched across the high ceiling of the library. He would get distracted every few seconds, however, to jut out the lower corner of his lip and blow at the single strand of black curly hair that kept falling over his right eye.

When Regulus heard a quiet _crack!_ , he jolted up in his seat and looked around the room. Several others had had the same reaction, and all of their eyes landed upon the small house elf.

"You is be calling for Popsy, sir?" the tiny elf asked Severus Snape.

Regulus didn't even seem to register the fact that she had been called by Snape, and he smiled at the small elf. He was just about to get up and begin talking to her, but Severus got to her first.

He pointed his wand at the small elf's arm, and the spell left his lips before Regulus could even react.

" _Mordax_!" he shouted, and the elf began squeaking in pain as the skin of her arm seemed to boil and swell.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Regulus screamed, and he rushed over to the elf as quickly as he could.

"Just a little Sirius Black tease, I s'pose," Severus said with a shrug, slipping his wand back into the pocket of his jacket.

Regulus shot a glare of unmatched intensity at Severus as he dropped to his knees next to the elf, who was still crying out in pain. He turned his full attention to her, grabbing her gingerly and pulling her towards him. The elf had big, wet tears soaking her cheeks, and her entire body was shaking violently.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her arm. She cowered away from him, but he held a firm grip on her tiny hand. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," Regulus said, and he pressed his wand gently against her skin. " _Ferula_ ," he muttered, and bandages wrapped themselves tightly 'round the little elf's arm. He assumed that his spell had been better this time because of his determination to heal the little elf.

Her trembling died down, and Regulus could tell that she was in much less pain. She looked gratefully at Regulus, who was staring down at her with worry clear on his face.

"I is be thanking you, Mr. Regulus, sir!" she exclaimed, and she quickly jumped up and wrapped her thin arms 'round his neck.

He was quite taken aback by the hug, but nevertheless, he gingerly wrapped his own arms 'round the little body of the house elf. "You remember me?" he muttered.

"Of course I is be remembering you, Mr. Regulus! You is being very nice to Popsy! Popsy will always remember Mr. Regulus!" she withdrew her arms and dropped back down to the ground, still quite dizzy from the intense and searing pain that was still running through her arm, though very diluted.

"What, do you shag house elves now, Black?" Rosier sneered.

Regulus snapped his head around to look at the two boys, giving them a disgusted and condescending grimace. "You can go, Popsy," Regulus said, though he kept his gaze on the two boys.

With a crack, Regulus knew that Popsy was gone. He stood up and pointed his wand squarely at the chest of Severus Snape. "Why the bloody hell did you do that?!" He demanded.

Severus Snape shrugged his shoulders. "Just wanted a little excitement is all. Hey, your brother likes using hexes like that on people too, doesn't he?" Severus's tone was one of mocking.

Regulus didn't give any sort of reaction, but he could feel a twinge of pain in his chest. Severus Snape had read Regulus's mind while he was distracted. Severus knew about what had transpired between he and his brother earlier that day. Severus Snape was using Regulus's pain against him.

Regulus Black hated Severus Snape.

He didn't think that he had ever hated anyone more. His hand was trembling from anger. He suddenly understood how Sirius had felt a few days prior when he cornered Regulus in the dungeons.

"Theodore, we're leaving," Mrs. Travers suddenly entered the room, followed by a sea of other parents coming to fetch their children.

Regulus wanted to hex Severus Snape. Oh he really, really wanted to hex him. However, he knew how bad that would look in front of all of the official Death Eaters. He had to restrain himself, or risk getting into trouble with the Dark Lord.

He lowered his wand, but his facial expression didn't falter.

"Regulus, come along, it's time to go," Walburga Black's sharp voice rang through the room, and Regulus reluctantly backed away from Severus Snape and Evan Rosier.

Later that very night, Regulus lay awake in his bed. He was staring at the dark, empty air above him.

With everything that Regulus was feeling, it was hard to believe that he had started that day recalling the peacefulness of his early childhood. Merlin, how much Regulus Black longed to go back.


	35. Holiday Nightmares

_Regulus Black was alone. Where, he did not know. All he knew was that he was alone. And so, so bloody cold._

_It was dark, wherever he was. So dark that he doubted very much if a light source could even pierce the thick black blanket surrounding him. He wanted so badly to get out. He was turning around and around and around, searching for the light. He just wanted to find the light._

_But, that seemed like an impossible task._

_"Hello?" Regulus called, but no response came. His voice echoed, bouncing off of something. It almost... it almost sounded like Regulus was in a cave. A very empty, dark, echoey, cold cave._

_There was a light. Regulus was so relieved, he could've passed out. There was light piercing through the thick and suffocating darkness of the cave. Regulus wanted to run towards it. Oh he really, really wanted to run towards it._

_But there was something stopping him. Something was telling him to stop. A voice in the back of his head._

_It was Sirius's voice. It was young, pre-Hogwarts Sirius's voice._

_"Reggie, don't!" It was screaming, echoing through his head. It was deafening. Regulus couldn't hear anything else. Just the voice of his older brother telling him, begging him, to stay still._

_Regulus listened. He always listened to Sirius. Ever since they were young, Sirius had always been the leader._

_He stayed put. He stayed, staring at the block of light that was flowing into the cave, as though it were a doorway. Suddenly, a dark figure emerged. It blocked the flow of light, and Regulus recognized the outline of his brother at once._

_"Sirius! Sirius, I stayed put, like you said!" Regulus exclaimed, still shivering from the cold that was seeping through his skin and into his very veins._

_Sirius didn't say anything._

_The cave was getting lighter before Regulus's very eyes. Where the light was coming from, Regulus didn't know. But he could see a green tint to it, as though it were coming from..._

_He turned around, looked down, and his eyes landed upon a giant lake of water. He could see something, so deep down in the lake that it was nothing but a light haze. Regulus furrowed his brow and walked close to the edge of the small cliff that he had somehow found himself on, looking deep down into the depths of the water._

_He could see something. Many somethings._

_Regulus felt his heart drop. They were bodies. There were hundreds upon hundreds of bodies floating in the water. But they weren't dead. No, Regulus could see them moving. Writhing as the water filled their lungs. Regulus was going to be sick._

_"Sirius, Sirius we have to help them!" Regulus shouted, and he spun around to look at his brother._

_Sirius didn't say anything. He just stared at his younger brother with an air of exasperation._

_Regulus looked pleadingly at him, begging him with his eyes to help. He needed to help. They needed to save the people in the water._

_"Sirius, please," he whispered._

_"No," Sirius snapped. His voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off of the stalactites that lined the ceiling._

_Regulus was shocked. Why on earth would Sirius just want to leave them? They were drowning!_

_He spun back around to face the water. If Sirius wasn't going to help him, then Regulus would get those people out himself. He kneeled down next to the water, squinting his eyes so that he could better see exactly where they were._

_Regulus's brows knit together. All of the people in the water, they weren't writhing in pain. It looked like they were... animating. Like they were slowly waking up from a sleep that they had been engulfed in for the past few years. But... that's impossible._

_It hit him. He stood up as fast as he could, nearly tumbling over backwards._

_They were in a cave full of Inferi._

_"Sirius... Sirius we need to leave," Regulus said hastily, turning back to his older brother._

_"We aren't going anywhere, Regulus," Sirius replied, and a twisted smile crept onto his pale, illuminated face._

_"Sirius, what are you-" but Regulus would never get the question out._

_A cold, clammy hand clamped 'round Regulus's ankle. Regulus didn't think that he had ever been more afraid in his life._

_Another hand wrapped its long, bone white fingers around Regulus's leg. They pulled. Regulus grappled for something, anything, that he could hold onto. He fell, his knees hitting the hard stone beneath him. Regulus let out a yelp of pain. More hands wrapped themselves around him, pulling him into the water - pulling him towards his demise._

_"SIRIUS!" Regulus screamed, scrambling on the slippery, wet rock, trying to find anything to keep him away from the Inferi. "SIRIUS, HELP! PLEASE!"_

_Sirius Black stayed put. He stared at his brother with a look of... was that... amusement?_

_"SIRIUS PLEASE!" Regulus pleaded. He found a nook in the rock and clung onto it for dear life, trying desperately to kick off the hands of the Inferi._

_Sirius knelt down so that his face was mere inches from that of his brother. "I would protect_ anyone else _before I would even think to protect you again," Sirius said in a hard tone, one laced with pure hatred and rage._

_Regulus was holding onto the rocks so hard that he felt his fingers would break. Sirius's words rang through the cave. It seemed as though the Inferi that filled the water were echoing him._

_"Sirius... please..." Regulus begged._

_Sirius stood up and stared at his struggling brother in distaste. He drew his wand - from where, Regulus was unsure - and pointed it directly at Regulus's arm. "Mordax," he said with a note of disgust and indignance._

_Regulus's arm was searing with pain. He couldn't hold onto the rocks. He slipped. The blistering pain in his arm and the ice cold grip of the Inferi were enough to make him numb. He couldn't fight. He gave up._

_They pulled him beneath the water. He was being pulled down, down to the very depths. He couldn't fight. His arm was stinging, his body was convulsing from the cold._

_Regulus stared up through the water, holding his breath for as long as he possibly could. The light broke on the surface, shattering it into thousands of tiny pieces. It was beautiful. It was the last thing that Regulus Black would see, and it was beautiful._

_Regulus could feel another hand clamp onto his leg, though this one felt different. It was warm. He looked down, and let out a cry when he saw who it was. Sirius Black had replaced the Inferi. Sirius Black was dragging Regulus down into the water. Sirius Black was going to kill Regulus._

_He started thrashing, fighting. "SIRIUS, STOP! PLEASE!" Regulus screamed, but it was muffled by the water that was entering his mouth and choking its way into his lungs. Sirius didn't let go._

_"SIRIUS!"_

"SIRIUS!" Regulus sat upright in his bed, choking on the stale air that filled the room.

He felt as though he were suffocating. He tore at the collar of his pyjama shirt, trying desperately to loosen it - it felt like the fabric was digging directly into his windpipe, obstructing his breathing. He felt both hot and cold at the same time, and he was uncomfortably damp from the sweat that he was drenched in.

The door to his bedroom creaked rather suddenly. Regulus didn't notice. He was too busy undoing the top buttons that lined the front of his shirt, wanting desperately to just be able to breathe again. Merlin, Regulus Black couldn't breathe.

The dark green curtains that surrounded his four-poster were ripped open suddenly, and there stood a disheveled and tired looking Sirius Black. "Regulus?" he croaked, rubbing his eyes roughly with his fists in hopes that it would better wake him up. "Regulus, what's the matter?"

Regulus looked at his brother, who's brow was furrowed in concern, and he could feel the panic rising up in his throat.

"No," he said, shaking his head and scrambling to get away from Sirius. His legs were tangled in his thick blankets, reducing his motion. He was reminded of the feeling of all of those clammy and cold hands wrapped 'round his legs, dragging him into the water. Regulus's panic was multiplying exponentially with every second that he spent thinking about it.

"Regulus, hey, calm down, you're fine," Sirius said, and he reached out a hand to try to comfort his younger brother.

Regulus hit Sirius's hand away. Sirius stared at him with worry clear on his face.

"Regulus, what's wrong?" Sirius asked, and he sat gingerly on the edge of Regulus's bed.

"You - Inferi - there was a cave - and water - and you, you didn't... you said... you didn't help... and I-" Regulus was finding it harder and harder to speak by the second. It felt as though his throat was closing. His heart was hammering so fast in his chest that he thought it may just give out at any second.

"Regulus, what are you talking about?" Sirius was quite confused by the panic stricken look and attitude that his brother was giving him.

"I was in a cave, and it was dark, but then it wasn't dark. There was water, a lot of water, and it was... it was full of Inferi. And you were there and then... and then the Inferi, they - they grabbed onto my legs and tried to pull me down. And then I asked you to help but you didn't and you said that you would protect anyone else over me and then I was holding onto the rock and then you hexed me and I couldn't hold onto the rock anymore and IgotdraggeddownbytheInfeributthenitwasyouandyouweredraggingmedown." Regulus's words were slurring together, and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he recounted the details of what he had just woken up from.

Sirius looked at his brother sympathetically. "Reg..." Sirius reached out a hand, though much slower this time so as not to alarm his already anxious brother. "Regulus, I wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't you?" he snapped, moving out of the way of Sirius's hand.

Guilt washed over Sirius as though an egg had been cracked on his head. "Regulus, I'm sorr-"

"Stop. Don't apologize, Sirius. I know you won't mean it." Regulus said, and he roughly wiped the tears that had trickled down his cheeks.

"I do mean it! I'm sorry about everything, Regulus. I'm sorry about the other day in the dungeons, and when I hexed you on Christmas, and-"

"Stop!" Regulus shouted, cutting Sirius off. "Stop trying to bloody apologize! I know that you aren't going to mean it! You're going to apologize for saying what you said, and for hexing me, and then that's just going to give me hope that you would ever want to become brothers again! But then, as soon as we get back to school, you're going to go back with your ruddy friends, and you're gonna hate me! You're gonna hate me because I'm not like you, because I'm in Slytherin, and then you're going to talk rubbish about me to all of your friends, and you're going to be mean to me again, and then it'll just repeat when you realize that you were too mean! I'm sick of it!"

Sirius was silent. Regulus's face was flush with anger, and back came the looming anxiety that was threatening to take him over at any second. "I'm sick of it," he repeated, though with much less passion. His voice was wobbling, whether that be from nervousness or emotion.

Sirius stood up from the bed. "Alright."

"Alright?" Regulus asked, unsure of which side Sirius was taking.

"Yeah. Alright. You're right. I can't promise that I'll mean it. So I won't say anything." He started towards the door, and Regulus didn't stop him.

He lay in bed that night, long after Sirius had returned to his own bedroom. He could still feel the cold hands clamped around him, the freezing waters engulfing him, filling his lungs and choking him. But, more than anything, he could still hear Sirius's words echoing through his head, his face burned into his vision.

Regulus Black could not close his eyes without seeing that awful, taunting face.

Deacon Ackland was sitting up in his dorm room.

Benji and Fran were both at home for the holidays, leaving Deacon completely by himself. He had been spending time with Emerson Reid during the days, seeing as he didn't want to go home, either. However, the nights were still lonely.

He couldn't hear the level breathing and light snoring of his two roommates, and it admittedly made it quite hard to sleep. He missed them. He really, really missed his friends.

Of course, they'd still been writing to him. However, the letters weren't enough to fill the hole in his chest that was there whenever he was away from his best mates.

As far as he knew, though, they were both having excellent holidays. Francesco and his family had gone to Italy for their Christmas holiday, and were staying there until the day before Francesco was set to come back to school. Francesco had sent Deacon a few postcards from Florence, Venice, and Rome, all of which Deacon treasured quite a lot. He had placed them safely in the drawer of his bedside table, where he was absolutely certain that they wouldn't be damaged.

Benji, on the other hand, was having a much less eventful holiday. His family was coming to town for Christmas, and he was less than enthusiastic. Though, he was still having a good holiday. He had explained it like this: he didn't necessarily dislike his family, but most of his cousins were stuck up rich Ilvermorny or Beauxbatons students who thought that they were better than Hogwarts. Benji's mother was an American, his father French, which explained the cousins from different schools. Anyways, Benji wrote to Deacon every single day. He would ask him how Hogwarts is, what he had done that day, how the Professors were doing, et cetera.

Both Francesco and Benji had sent Deacon Christmas presents, which he felt quite bad about, seeing as he couldn't buy them anything in return. However, when he wrote them about this, they both assured him that it was completely ok, and that Deacon's friendship was enough for them.

Clementine, on the other hand, was much different.

She and Deacon had gone on a date. It was the day before Christmas, and it was one of the most awkward things that Deacon had ever done.

They met in the entrance hall, and the nervous energy was practically radiating off of Deacon. He hadn't known exactly how to dress, so he resorted to a chunky knit cream colored jumper and a pair of brown trousers. Clementine had shown up in a lovely sage green dress that reached down just past her knees, and a pair of white trainers.

Needless to say, their color schemes didn't exactly go together. Deacon and Clementine had a nice walk around the grounds, just talking to one another about themselves and their interests.

By the end of the day, Deacon was actually much more relaxed than he expected. Clementine was a lovely girl, really. In fact, if Deacon did have the ability to form feelings for girls, he suspected that she would be just the type of girl he would go for. She was funny, sweet, and, he really did have to admit, absolutely gorgeous.

But, he just couldn't think of her that way.

So, he ignored her. After their date, he hadn't spoken to her. He didn't know how to tell her that he didn't like her like that without either accidentally giving himself away, or hurting her feelings. Deacon only left the common room for meals, and he would leave as soon as he was done so as not to give Clementine enough time to bombard him.

It was 2 January, two days before everyone would be returning from break. Deacon was excited to be able to see his friends again, but he was less than enthusiastic for Francesco to ask him about how it went with he and Clementine. He knew that Fran would probably push him to speak to her. Benji, he knew, would probably try to talk him out of it, which he should do, especially since he was the only one who knew about who Deacon really liked.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his dorm room door. He looked up at it in confusion - no one had ever come to his dorm room before, unless it was to speak about Quidditch.

"Uh - come in?" he called.

The door cracked open, and in stuck the messy-haired Frank Longbottom. "Hey there, kiddo," he said, a smile on his face.

"Hi?" Deacon replied. Not only was he confused as to why on earth Frank Longbottom had come to his dorm room, he was also quite bewildered by the name "kiddo" that Frank had bestowed upon him.

Frank opened the door wider and stepped inside. "There's a girl in the hall looking for you. Said her name was Clementine?" Frank gave him a smirk.

Deacon could feel his cheeks flushing. "I - er - ok," he said, not sure what else he could say.

"Who is she? Your girlfriend?" Frank teased.

"No," Deacon replied quickly, sliding off of the bed and slipping on a pair of trainers.

Frank gave him an unbelieving expression. "Alright," he paused, holding the door open for Deacon while he walked out. Frank shut Deacon's dorm room door and began walking down towards the common room behind the younger boy. "You know, Alice and I didn't tell people that we were dating for the first few months. Afraid that people would say we weren't good together."

"I'm not dating Clementine," Deacon said.

"Ok, whatever you say." Though Frank clearly didn't believe him.

Deacon left Frank at the couch in front of the fireplace, and he walked towards the portrait hole. Sure enough, standing just outside, was Clementine Bates.

She was wearing a black skirt which reached down to her ankles, a black jumper, and her Hufflepuff scarf. She looked at Deacon as he clambered into the hallway, a bright smile on her face.

"Hullo Deacon," she said.

"Hi," he replied, standing awkwardly in front of her.

"Walk with me?" she asked, gesturing down the corridor.

He nodded, and the two of them began walking side by side. It was a few moments of silence, until it was broken by the clearing of her throat.

"Deacon, I just want you to know, that I really like you," she began, and Deacon's whole body seemed to tense up. "Not in the way that I think you think I mean, though. I really like you, as a friend. Yes, the idea of being more is rather appealing. Especially because of how kindhearted and funny you are. But, I know that we could never work out."

"What makes you think that?" Deacon asked, looking at her.

She looked at him, too, and gave him a smile. "Because I don't think that you could ever like me like that. Could you?"

Deacon stopped dead in his tracks. He could feel his cheeks burning, and he just looked at her with an expression of worry. "What do you mean?"

She stopped, too, and stood directly in front of him. "I don't know if I'm right, Deacon. In fact, I could be totally and completely wrong."

He was silent.

"Am I right, Deacon?"

He didn't respond.

"It's ok if I am, just so you know."

No response.

"Deacon?"

He didn't know what to do. Should he deny it? Should he say that she's right? Was she even implying what he thought she was implying? He needed to find out.

"What, exactly, are you implying?"

She gave him a warm smile. "You like boys, don't you?"

He didn't know what to say. How had Deacon found himself in this situation twice? Was it obvious? Would Fran catch on?

"Deacon?"

He knew that he couldn't deny it. Clementine was smart. She had caught on, the same as Benji. And, she had already said that it would be ok...

He nodded his head.

Her smile didn't falter. "Well, that settles that, then, doesn't it?" she held out a hand for him. "Friends?"

He stared at her hand for a few seconds, and then grabbed onto it with his own. "Friends." he replied.

"Well, I'll walk you back to your common room," she said, and she started past him.

Deacon spun around and began walking beside her. Without warning, Clementine hooked the crook of her arm with Deacon's, which did, indeed, make him go quite rigid.

"Oh, Deacon, come on. It's just a friendly gesture," she said, but even then, he could tell that she would be willing to stop if he asked her to. He didn't. Actually, aside from the initial shock, he quite liked it.

"So," Clementine began again, "Benjamin knows, doesn't he?"

Deacon nodded. "He and you are the only ones," he replied.

"Did he find out himself, or did you tell him?"

"A bit of both, really. He found out who I liked and then I didn't deny it, so, he caught on."

She nodded her head slowly. "Am I going to be let in on the confidential information of who Deacon Ackland has a crush on? Or am I not to that level yet?"

Deacon shook his head vigorously. "Sorry, it's not you, I just... I don't want anyone to know. Benji only knows because he found out himself. Sorry."

"Oh, it's ok," she responded. "I'll find out myself, then."

"Good luck," Deacon responded.

"Thank you." There was silence. "Did it go the same? I mean, did you have a similar reaction when Benjamin found out?"

Deacon shook his head. "I cried."

"You cried?"

"Like a baby."

They both began to laugh. They laughed the entire way back to the Gryffindor common room. It was nice.

"Well, here we are," Clementine said once she was able to compose herself. The two of them stopped outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Well, thanks for walking me back," Deacon said, unhooking his arm from Clementine's and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It was my pleasure," she said, giving him a friendly smile. Deacon wondered if Clementine Bates was ever without a smile on her face.

"Hey, how do you know where the common room is, anyways? Other houses aren't supposed to know."

"Oh, I've walked with Lottie and Lennox a few times."

Deacon nodded. "Oh, that makes sense."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it? Well, goodnight Deacon. I hope to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah sure," he replied, and he gave her a small smile. "Goodnight."

Later that night, when Deacon was falling asleep, he was convinced that he had never been more relaxed than he was in that moment. Clementine Bates was truly an amazing person. She and Benji just made Deacon feel so... _normal_.

When he was around the two of them, he wasn't the muggle-born wizard. He wasn't the kid with horrible parents. He wasn't the boy who liked other boys. He was just Deacon Ackland.

And Deacon Ackland really enjoyed being able to be himself.

He wondered if Regulus Black would ever be able to be himself in front of others.

Certainly not around the other Slytherin's. Not even around his best mate. However, he was sure that he had seen the real Regulus Black on Halloween. The way back from the pitch, when they were joking and laughing with one another. Yes, _that_ was the real Regulus Black. Not the overly mean, blood purist, spoiled pure-blooded wizard that he acted like around everyone else. No, no Deacon Ackland was sure that Regulus was a good person. He was absolutely certain that, deep down, there was a truly nice, caring, and brave boy. He just needed a place to express it without being afraid of what others would think.

In that moment, Deacon vowed that he would, one day, be the person to Regulus Black that Benjamin Stone and Clementine Bates were to him.


	36. Hierarchy

Regulus and Sirius Black walked along Platform 9 ¾ in silence. Walburga and Orion were trailing close behind them, still trying to give off the appearance of an esteemed family. Of course, everyone on the platform could tell that this wasn't true, just based off of the Gryffindor tie that was draped loosely 'round Sirius Black's neck. No, a Gryffindor in the Black family would never be seen as esteemed to them.

Regulus was walking as far away from Sirius as he could, while still staying within the perimeters that their parents wanted them to stay in. He didn't want to have to look at him. He didn't want to be around him. He just wanted to leave his parents, find Barty, and go back to Hogwarts.

That's all he wanted.

Regulus couldn't stand to be around his brother. Sirius had made the choice. He had made the last, official choice. Granted, Regulus had pushed him into it, but it would've happened anyways. Regulus just preferred that it happen sooner rather than later. He knew now that there was little to no chance of them ever being close again, at least not as close as they had been before. And Regulus was trying to act like it didn't break his heart.

"Have a good rest of term, Regulus," Walburga said, placing a hand on her son's shoulder to turn him 'round.

"I will, mother," Regulus said.

He heard Sirius scoff beside him, but he ignored it. Orion looked at Regulus with his normal, cold expression, his eyes bearing into Regulus's.

"Do what you're supposed to," he said.

Regulus nodded. He could feel Sirius's eyes on him. "I will," Regulus responded.

Orion nodded his head, and Walburga raised her chin to stare down at her two sons regally. "Off you go," and she shooed them away.

Regulus was expecting Sirius to break off immediately to go find his friends, but he didn't. Instead, when they were out of eye and ear shot from their parents, Sirius gripped Regulus's arm and dragged him off to a non-crowded part of the platform.

"Hey!" Regulus protested, trying to wrench his arm from that of his brother. "Let me go!"

"No," Sirius snapped, not even looking at his struggling brother as he dragged him through the crowd.

When he reached the location - the furthest point at the end of the platform that the two could get without leaving it completely - Sirius stopped and spun 'round so he was facing Regulus.

"What was he talking about?" he demanded.

Regulus jerked his arm out of Sirius's grip. "What do you mean?" Regulus shot back, his voice cold.

"Father? Just now? He said to do what you're supposed to? What the bloody hell was he talking about?"

"Oh, I don't know, probably just not to become a stupid blood traitor like you," Regulus snapped.

"You know damn well that that's not what he meant," Sirius retorted. "What. Did. He. Mean?"

Regulus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Like I would tell _you_. Thought you didn't want to be brothers anymore? Which means that what father meant is none of your ruddy business."

Sirius glared at him, and his eyes flickered to Regulus's left arm for but a second. Without warning, he reached out, gripped his left wrist, and yanked the sleeve of Regulus's knit Quidditch jumper up.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Regulus demanded, trying to pull his wrist out of Sirius's grip.

Sirius stared at his left forearm suspiciously. There was no Dark Mark. Regulus knew what he was looking for. He took the moment of surprise from his brother and wrenched his wrist from his hand, pulling his sleeve back down.

"I don't have the Mark, you ruddy idiot," Regulus said in a condescending tone of voice.

"Can't be too sure with people like _you_ ," Sirius snapped back.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "What? _Normal_ people?"

"No, Death Eaters."

"Didn't you just see my arm? I'm not a Death Eater," Regulus said defensively. He hoped that he was being convincing enough.

"Not yet," Sirius said coldly.

They were both silent.

"Is that all you wanted? To make yourself look like an idiot?" Regulus asked, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and looked Regulus up and down skeptically, but didn't say anything else nonetheless. Regulus took this as a yes, and he quickly sped away to find his best mate.

The train ride back to Hogwarts was a long and boring one. Both Regulus and Barty hadn't had very eventful holidays, so they both didn't have much to say. Regulus had told Barty about the meeting, leaving out everything with Narcissa and what had happened to Popsy. Barty gave him a rundown of how ignoring his father went, which made Regulus quite sad when he thought about it.

When they arrived at the school later that night, almost every single student headed straight for dinner. Regulus and Barty sat side by side in their normal spot, Phoebe Scott sitting across from them with all of the first year girls lined up around her. Phoebe, since Constance had been admitted to Mungo's, had begun spending time with the first years almost everyday. Phoebe was the only one left, she was the only girl in Regulus's year, so she needed people to spend time with. The first years seemed like the most obvious option.

Regulus was eating a bowl of soup, looking up and down the table, when two people caught his attention. Evan Rosier and Severus Snape were sitting much closer to the two boys than they normally did. Regulus narrowed his eyes in thought, but ignored it. Perhaps their seats had been taken.

"Hey, Regulus!" Gillian Fairman suddenly dropped down on the bench to the left of Regulus.

"What's up, little Black?" Carson asked, squeezing his way between Barty and Regulus.

"Hullo," Regulus replied, giving them both a smile in turn.

"Did you two... you know... figure it out?" Carson asked, turning his head and switching his gaze between Regulus and Barty.

"I figured some things out," Regulus said.

"Yeah, me too. My mum told me a few things about the Ministry protocols in the case of Hogwarts going under attack," Barty responded, leaning in closer so that he could speak low enough that only the three of them would hear.

"Excellent!" Carson said, and he gave Barty a pat on the back. "We discovered some things from Slughorn, too," he gestured between he and Gillian.

"Was it easy?" Regulus asked, lifting another spoonful of soup to his mouth.

"Very. Slughorn loves to talk about himself. Make him think it's about him, he'll spill anything." Gillian replied.

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "Good to know."

Gillian and Carson both nodded. "Well, just wanted to let you know that practices are resuming this week. Gotta start getting ready for our next match."Carson said.

"When's our next match?" Regulus asked.

After Gryffindor and Slytherin had played, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had had a match. Ravenclaw won, putting them in second place for the House Cup, just behind Slytherin.

"19 January. It's two weeks from a tomorrow, so we need to get on it," Gillian responded.

Regulus noted the look of adoration that came over Carson's face whenever Gillian Fairman opened her mouth to speak.

"Who are we playing?"

"Ravenclaw," Gillian responded.

"Ok. So, when's the first practice? Tomorrow?"

"God no! Tomorrow's a Saturday. I've booked the pitch for Monday from five to six." Carson said.

"AM or PM?"

"PM. I'm not waking up that bloody early on a Monday."

"You made us wake up earlier than that on a Saturday," Regulus pointed out.

"Yeah, and we won, didn't we?" Carson retorted.

"Fair point," Regulus said, and he took yet another bite of soup.

"Well, see you around," Carson said, and he pat Regulus firmly on the back as he stood from the table. Gillian stood, too, and put a gentle hand on Regulus's shoulder.

"See you later, Regulus," she gave him a smile.

"Bye guys," he watched the two of them walk away, and then turned back to his dinner.

"Do you think you'll win against Ravenclaw?" Barty asked, trying to start up a conversation.

Regulus shrugged. "I mean, I think so. We won against Gryffindor, didn't we? I think we should be able to win."

"Good point."

Regulus and Barty were silent a moment, just long enough for Regulus to hear Severus and Evan snickering at them. Regulus's head whipped 'round to face them and he sent a glare their way. They responded with two twisted smiles, and then turned back to whispering.

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned forward again. Though he was pretending he wasn't, Regulus was still listening closely to Severus and Evan's conversation. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but he could tell that they were talking about him. And then, they stopped whispering and spoke up.

"Hey, Black!" Evan Rosier shouted down the table.

Regulus looked at him begrudgingly. "What do you want?" he asked.

Evan Rosier scowled at him. "Is it true that you shag house elves?"

"Shut the bloody hell up, Rosier, or I swear to Merlin I'll hex you." Regulus responded through clenched teeth.

Evan sniggered at him. "Well? Is it?"

"Obviously not, you git." Regulus snapped. He quickly turned back to his dinner, not wanting to give Evan Rosier the satisfaction of thinking that he had gotten to him.

"What's he on about?" Barty asked.

"At the meeting, Severus Snape hexed a house elf for no reason. So, I helped her. Not a big deal." Regulus responded, trying to remain nonchalant.

Barty was quiet a moment. "Why did he hex her?"

"I told you, it was for no reason. He called her just so that he could hex her. I don't even know how he was able to call her, honestly. She was one of the Malfoy's."

"Well, they probably commanded the elves to answer the commands of guests. That's what dad does with my house elf." Barty shrugged.

Regulus looked at him curiously. "You didn't tell me you had a house elf?"

"Never really came up, I guess."

"What's their name?"

"Winky. She's been our house elf since I was really young. I think dad got her so that I could have a friend while he was at work."

"Are you? Friends, I mean?"

"No. She's just a house elf. We aren't meant to be friends with them."

Regulus was quiet. "I'm friends with my house elf. His name's Kreacher."

"You're really friends with him?" Barty sounded surprised.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because, like I said, we aren't meant to be friends with them. I just assumed that your family, you know, being who they are, wouldn't want you to be friends with a house elf. That's like the same as being friends with a mudblood."

Regulus stayed silent. "Do you really think that? That house elves and mudbloods are the same?"

"Well, yeah. They're less than us, aren't they? There's like... it's like a hierarchy, right? Pure-bloods are at the top, obviously. Well, no, I guess it would be the Sacred Twenty-eight, and then normal pure-bloods. Then, beneath that would be half-bloods, because they're not as bad as mudbloods in the grand scheme of things, I s'pose. Then it would be mudbloods and house elves. Same level."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. If what Barty was saying was true, and it truly did sound like it was, then why were mudbloods - muggle-borns - considered less? Kreacher was kind. He was one of Regulus's greatest friends. So, if Kreacher was considered at the same level of the hierarchy as muggle-borns, then what did that mean?

Regulus had a lot to think about. However, now was not the time. Not where Severus Snape could pry at any moment. Not when he was this weak at Occlumency still.

Regulus needed to get out of the Great Hall.

He hurried to finish his dinner. Barty, who had already finished his, sat back and waited patiently for Regulus to finish.

When Regulus had finished scarfing down his soup, he slung his book bag - which was rested on the bench beside him - over his shoulder. The two of them started to walk out of the hall, but Regulus stopped abruptly when Evan Rosier decided to open his big, stupid mouth again.

"House elf lover," he muttered.

Regulus was sick of Evan Rosier. He was sick of the snide remarks, he was sick of the way that Evan always looked at him, as though Regulus were any less. He was absolutely tired of it. So, he drew his wand, whipped around, and pointed it directly at Evan from across the table.

"Say it again," Regulus demanded, keeping his hand steady, despite his anger.

Evan Rosier snickered and raised a challenging eyebrow. "I said," Regulus snarled, leaning down so as to push his wand closer to Evan. "Say. It. Again."

His voice rang through the hall, and almost everyone went silent. The teachers had not had time to process it yet, so none of them acted. However, every single student was staring at the encounter.

"Say what? That you shag house elves?" Evan asked in a patronizing tone.

Regulus could feel his face burning with rage. Though, he wasn't the first to act.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, ROSIER!" Carson Nott shouted, slamming his hands down onto the table and standing up.

"Awe, look at ickle baby Regulus, needing someone else to stand up for him. Like always." Evan Rosier mocked. "What is he, your boyfriend?"

Regulus had had enough.

" _TITILLANDO_!" Regulus shouted, and the spell hit Evan Rosier square in the face.

Evan Rosier began laughing - quite uncontrollably, really. Carson Nott began to laugh uproariously, too, clutching his stomach from the pain that it was inducing. Gillian Fairman was covering her mouth with her hand, trying desperately to hold in her laughter. Barty's eyes were darting between Evan and Regulus in amusement. Evan Rosier was falling off of the bench, gripping his sides from the sharp pain that the laughter was causing in his ribs.

Suddenly, however, the teachers were able to process. "MR. BLACK!" McGonagall shouted, standing from her table. "THERE WILL BE NO HEXING OTHER STUDENTS! TEN POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!" McGonagall turned to Slughorn with a look of contempt. "Horace, please discipline your student!"

Slughorn, looked at McGonagall for a brief moment, and then his eyes turned back to Regulus. "Well, Minerva, you must admit, it was quite a well executed Tickling Hex!"

That was the last straw. Every single student in the Great Hall burst into laughter. McGonagall was fuming. "HORACE, HE'S HEXED ANOTHER STUDENT!"

"Yes, yes, I know. Mr. Black, detention with me tomorrow night!" Slughorn called over the laughter that filled the hall.

Regulus was looking around at everyone with a smile on his face. "MERLIN'S BEARD, THIS IS NOT FUNNY! ALBUS, TELL THEM THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" McGonagall shouted, turning to the headmaster in exasperation.

Albus Dumbledore had an amused smirk on his face, but he stood up nonetheless. Drawing his wand from his robes, he pointed it at the writhing boy on the ground.

" _Finite Incantatum_!" Dumbledore shouted, and Evan's laughter died down immediately.

However, the laughter from the other students didn't. Evan Rosier felt absolutely humiliated. He looked at Regulus Black, the way that he was laughing with Barty Crouch Jr., and he felt rage rise up in him. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Regulus Black in that moment. Without thinking, he pulled his wand from his pocket, pointed it at Regulus, and before anyone could even notice-

" _ADUSTIUM_!" he shouted, and a jet of purple light hit Regulus Black squarely in the back.

Regulus thought that he had never felt pain like he did in that moment. It was exponentially worse than the stinging hex that Sirius had hit him with over the break. His back felt like it was on fire - it felt as though his very skin were melting off.

He let out a cry of pain and fell forward, being caught by a very concerned looking Barty. "Regulus? Reg, are you ok? WHAT DID YOU HIT HIM WITH?!" He turned to face Evan - who had stood from the ground - his face contorted with fury.

Gillian Fairman was the first to act. She stood from the table and rushed towards Barty and Regulus, Carson Nott following closely behind. They reached him, and both wrinkled their noses at the scent that wafted through the air. It smelled like something were being burned. Gillian and Carson glanced at one another in alarm.

Everyone in the Great Hall had become silent. They were all standing or sitting with their necks craned, trying to see just what was happening. Sirius was standing at the Gryffindor table, his brow furrowed in concern.

Regulus was crying. He didn't want to cry in front of everyone, but he couldn't stop. The pain in his back was absolutely excruciating. He could barely breathe through it. Barty had kneeled down to the ground, unable to hold up the full weight of Regulus Black. He was clutching fistfuls of Barty's jumper, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. His entire body was spasming from pain.

"Make - I need - stop it. Make it stop. Make it stop!" he was crying.

"Regulus? Regulus, darling, I need you to tell me what hurts," Gillian said in a soothing tone, placing a gentle hand on his back.

Regulus screamed out from the pain of her hand on his back, and his whole body twitched. Gillian looked at Carson, who was as pale as a ghost.

"Reg, what's wrong? Tell us what's wrong." Barty said quietly.

Regulus couldn't speak. He was choking on the words that were trying desperately to escape from his mouth.

Carson didn't know what to do. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He didn't know how to help. He was overcome with a wave of ferocity, and he stood from the ground.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU HIT HIM WITH, YOU LITTLE ROACH?!" Carson shouted, and he took two quick steps towards the table.

Evan Rosier was silent.

Carson Nott didn't hesitate. He stepped onto the bench, walked across the table, and hopped down onto the ground in front of Evan. He drew his wand and pressed it against Rosier's chest - hard.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU HEXED HIM WITH OR I SWEAR TO MERLIN, I WILL KILL YOU, ROSIER. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"MR. NOTT!" Dumbledore shouted, standing from the teachers table.

Gillian didn't do anything. As far as she was concerned, if she weren't trying to help the trembling and whimpering boy before her, she would've already hit Evan Rosier with every hex that she knew.

"WHAT DID YOU HEX HIM WITH?!"

"I'm not going to tell you," Evan Rosier said, though he looked utterly terrified of the raging seventh year in front of him.

"YOU LITTLE-"

"MR. NOTT! ENOUGH!" Dumbledore shouted, and he cast a silent disarming charm with the flick of his wand. Carson Nott's wand flew out of his hand, but that didn't stop him. He was on Evan Rosier in seconds.

Evan Rosier was pinned to the floor, Carson Nott holding him down, throwing punches at him. One after the other.

The teachers were baffled. " _IMPEDIMENTA_!" Flitwick shouted, and Carson Nott's movements slowed to an agonizing speed.

"Thank you, Filius," Dumbledore said, and he, as well as several other teachers, rushed 'round the table and towards the scene before them.

While all of this was happening, Regulus was becoming light headed from the pain that was still searing his back. He couldn't find the words to express how much pain he was in. Gillian was stroking his hair, whispering things to him in attempts to calm him down.

"Regulus, you're going to be alright. It's ok. You're ok. Tell me what hurts. I need you to tell me what hurts."

As if it were on cue, his back spasmed. Gillian's eyes darted to it, and then to the tear soaked face of Regulus, which was contorted in agony.

"Your back? Is it your back?" she asked tenderly, rubbing the backs of her fingers against his cheek.

All he could do was nod his head. Even then, it could've been passed off as just another twitch of pain.

But Gillian knew that it wasn't.

"Ok, I'm going to lift up the back of your jumper, ok? Barty, I need you to help me," she looked at the smaller boy, who's eyebrows were knit with worry.

The two of them worked together to shift Regulus's body so that his back was facing upwards enough to where Gillian could easily get a look. This was quite a hard task for all three parties involved. Regulus was screaming out in pain from the movement, and Barty and Gillian were both forced to keep going, no matter how much they wanted to stop. They were both sick from the pain that they were inflicting on their friend.

Barty was whispering soothing things to Regulus, telling him that it would be alright, hoping against hope that it would be enough.

When they were finally able to stop, the hard part came. Gillian had to lift the back of Regulus's jumper, which she knew would be absolute torment to the boy. But, if she wanted to make him better, she would need to make him worse, first.

She could hear Dumbledore shouting for Carson to stop whatever he was doing, but she didn't look up. She was too focused on being sure that Regulus Black was going to be alright. She grabbed the bottom of his knit jumper, took a deep breath, and began to lift it upwards.

Gillian didn't think that she had ever heard anyone in more pain than in that moment. Regulus Black was grinding his teeth so hard that she could hear it, and he was crying out in pure agony. "I know, darling, but it's going to be better, I promise. We'll make it better," she said as soothingly as she could.

It felt as though the jumper were being peeled from his skin. As though the skin and the jumper had been morphed, had been... had been melted together. The burning scent suddenly made sense. Despite the yelping that came with it, Gillian pulled the jumper faster.

When Regulus's full back had been revealed, Barty and Gillian felt sick. There were gasps going up from people who were able to see from where they were sitting.

Regulus Black's back was covered in one, ginormous burn. The skin was raised and stark white, and there were red, puss-filled and bloody blisters that covered it all. There were deep gashes, and even patches where the skin had been burned so badly that you could practically see the holes where the layers of skin had seemingly just melted away. It appeared that the fibers of his jumper has been melted into the skin where the spell had hit Regulus the hardest. His skin was sizzling, and it looked like it was continuing to burn and melt before their very eyes. Gillian and Barty were positive that they were going to be sick.

"What the fuck did he do..." she mumbled, her hands shaking, unsure what to do. "We need Madam Pomfrey. GET MADAM POMFREY!" she shouted.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Cole both came running over, letting out audible gasps when they saw the state of the second year Slytherin boy. McGonagall's hands flew to her mouth, and Professor Cole kneeled down next to Regulus to observe the wound at once. "I've never seen this..." she muttered. "I don't know what spell could've caused this." She looked up to Professor McGonagall.

"Albus!" McGonagall shouted, and the old headmaster rushed 'round the table.

His eyes went wide at the sight, but he held his composure. "Amiyah, what's caused this?"

"I'm not sure. I've never seen a spell cause this before. I mean, stinging and burning are common spells, but not this bad," she looked absolutely perplexed.

"For Merlin's sake, can't we do something! Look at the poor boy!" McGonagall shouted, noting the state that Regulus was still in.

"I'm sorry about this, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, and he raised his wand. " _Stupefy_."

Regulus's world went dark.

Sirius Black was still standing.

James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin were all craning their necks to see what was happening.

"What happened? Did you hear what happened?" Sirius asked, standing on the tips of his toes and moving to one side. The scene was now blocked by the group of teachers whom had crowded around the three people on the floor.

"We heard the same as you, Sirius," James said, but his voice sounded just as concerned.

"No, exactly. What exactly did you hear? Did I miss something? What's going on? Who's hurt?"

Remus reached out a hand and rested it gently on top of Sirius's. "Your brother hexed Rosier, Rosier hexed your brother back. We all heard his... you know... crying and stuff, and then Carson Nott went crazy on Rosier. And then the teachers went over to your brother, and that's where we are now."

"Yeah, but what hex did he hit him with? What does it do?" Sirius asked.

"It was like Ade- Adentium? Aduntium? A-" James began.

"Adustium," Peter finished.

"What does it do?" Sirius asked.

"Dunno, I've never heard of it before." James said.

"Whatever it is, he didn't learn it in school." Peter added.

"How do you know?" Remus asked.

"Evan Rosier is a second year. If we haven't learned it, he hasn't learned it." Peter shrugged.

"That means he learned it from his parents..." Sirius said, and his concern seemed to boil over the edge. Evan Rosier's parents were dark wizards. He had hit Regulus with dark magic.

Sirius remembered back to the pain that he had felt the summer before Regulus came to school. The pain that the Cruciatus inflicted on him. No matter how much he despised his little brother, he wouldn't wish that pain on anyone. He just hoped that whatever Regulus was going through, it was better than that.

Madam Pomfrey entered the Great Hall in a flurry, levitating jars of potions, metal instruments, and pots of unknown substances behind herself. She stopped in front of Dumbledore, gave an audible gasp, and the two spoke for a few brief moments. Dumbledore nodded his head, and rushed towards the front of the Great Hall.

" _Sonorous_ ," he murmured on his way to the front, pointing his wand at his throat. When he reached the golden podium at the front, he gripped either side of it and cleared his throat. "I apologize for the unorthodox end to dinner, but I am going to have to insist that each and every one of you leave the hall. We will be sending elves to your common rooms with desert within the next few minutes. Off you all go, pip pip," the four heads of houses all led their students out of the hall, ignoring any questions that they were asked about what was going on.

Sirius was going to find out what was going on.

He found McGonagall. "Professor! Professor, what's happening? What did that little roach do to my brother?" Sirius asked, walking beside the frenetic Professor.

"Mr. Black, I can not tell you at this time," she said, rushing the Gryffindor's into the entrance hall. They were the final house to leave.

"He's my brother!" Sirius protested.

McGonagall looked at him for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I still can't tell you. We do not know exactly what your brother was hit with, but-"

"Adustium," Sirius said quickly.

McGonagall stopped just in front of the doors leading into the entrance hall. "What was that?"

"Adustium. Pete heard it. That's what Evan Rosier hexed Regulus with."

McGonagall nodded her head. "Thank you, Mr. Black. That will certainly help. Now, I will come fetch you from the common room as soon as I know anything."

Without another word, McGonagall shut the doors to the Great Hall in Sirius's face. Sirius stared at the grain of the wood in the doors, feeling the worry that he had for Regulus multiplying by the second. Whatever was wrong with him, it was serious. So serious, in fact, that Sirius couldn't even bring himself to make the joke.

McGonagall turned around and hurried over to the headmaster, who was speaking to Barty Crouch Jr. and Gillian Fairman.

"... and then he just... fell forward. I caught him, but he couldn't tell me what was wrong because he was crying." Barty was saying.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore," McGonagall entered the conversation. "Sirius Black says that Peter Pettigrew heard the hex that Regulus was hit with."

"What was it, Minerva?" Amiyah Cole asked, butting in from where she had been speaking with Professor Flitwick.

"Adustium."

Amiyah Cole mouthed the word, furrowing her brow. "I've never heard of that before."

"Are you positive?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor Cole nodded her head. "Yes. I've never heard of any spell like that before. Never seen these results, either. Whatever this is, I don't know where it's come from."

Dumbledore's wooly white eyebrows knit together, and he glanced to Evan Rosier, who was being questioned by Professor Sprout and Professor Itri. "Then where did the boy learn it?"

Madam Pomfrey, who was tending to Regulus Black on the floor, glanced up. "Whatever this is, it's dark. Nothing that I have is working."

"Nothing?" McGonagall asked.

She shook her head, a look of concern on her face. "Nothing. I think it's going to have to heal on its own."

Evan Rosier returned to the common room later that night. His eye was bruised, and his nose still felt rather sore from the Episkey that Madam Pomfrey had halfheartedly cast on it after it had been broken by Carson. Severus Snape was sitting in a plush chair in front of the fire, elbows on his knees, head bowed.

He looked up at the sound of the common room door, and immediately jumped up from his seat.

" _What the hell were you thinking_?" Severus hissed, walking briskly to where Evan had stopped.

"I was thinking that that kid is ruddy insufferable. He got what he deserved." Evan shrugged.

Severus was quiet for a moment, trying to remain collected. "You could've been expelled. You could've gotten _me_ expelled."

"Yeah, but I didn't, did I? Hey, nice spell by the way. Never heard of a third year who could come up with a spell as cool as that. Got any others?"

"No, I do not have any others. Not yet. That's not the point, though. You used my spell without my permission, on a student, in front of the _entire bloody faculty_. How did you even get out of it?"

Evan shrugged his shoulders. "Just said that I shouted the first thing that came to mind. Cried a little bit, said I felt absolutely awful, and then said that I got what I deserved when Carson came after me. Let me off with a warning. As far as I know, Carson got it worse than me. Heard he's being suspended as Quidditch captain."

Severus's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Evan smirked. "Yup. It's what he deserved. He's a bad captain. I bet Macnair or Mulciber will get his place instead."

"And Regulus? What did my spell do?"

"From what I overheard, it practically melted his skin clean off. If I had cast it with a little more passion, I reckon it would've."

Severus Snape felt quite proud. Yes, he thought that the usage of the spell was a little unfair, but he had still invented a spell like that. A spell that powerful. He made it.

"Couldn't heal it, either," Evan continued, "heard it has to heal itself."

"Is it going to scar?"

"Probably. Though, Pomfrey said she was pretty certain that she could make a salve that would make it not. She said that, because it was a spell instead of, say, a werewolf scratch, salves can help stop scarring."

"Huh. Well, that's interesting." Severus said.

Evan Rosier responded to this with a twisted smile and a cocked eyebrow.

Deacon Ackland was pacing in his dorm room.

"Do you reckon he's alright?" Deacon asked, turning to pace the other direction. "I mean you heard his... his screams. That wasn't good."

"Well, yeah, it obviously wasn't. But, I reckon he'll be alright. He has Madam Pomfrey, doesn't he?" Benji asked.

"Yeah, Dea, he'll be fine." Francesco assured him.

Deacon kept pacing. "Why did Evan even hex him? I mean, Regulus hit him with the ruddy Tickling Hex! It was all a good laugh!"

"I dunno. Much as I hate the tosser, even I have to admit that he didn't deserve that. He sounded like he was in a lot of pain." Fran said.

"Yeah, it sounded awful." Benji added, shivering at the mere memory of the sound.

Deacon Ackland stopped pacing and dropped down onto the end of the nearest bed, which just so happened to be Fran's. Fran looked at him with a look of reassurance, and scooted over so that they were sitting side by side. He wrapped an arm around Deacon's shoulders, squeezing him and rubbing his arm gently. Deacon could scarcely breathe. Fran's mere touch sent shivers through his entire body.

"He'll be fine, don't worry. Don't think you'll be able to see Thestrals anytime soon."

"Thestrals? What are those?" Deacon looked over at him.

"You don't know what Thestrals are?!" Fran asked, shocked.

"Dea's muggle-born, remember? He wouldn't learn about them unless he took Care of Magical Creatures." Benji pointed out.

Deacon pointed to him. "Yeah."

"Oh, well Thestrals are what pull the carriages to and from Hogsmeade station. They're quite lovely creatures, I've heard, but the lore behind them gives them a bad reputation. You can only see Thestrals if you've witnessed death."

"Witnessed death?! You don't think we witnessed death, do you?! YOU DON'T THINK HE'S DEAD?!" Deacon was in a panic. He _really_ didn't want Regulus Black to be dead.

"No, no, I said you won't be seeing Thestrals. Relax, Dea, Regulus Black will be fine." he said Regulus's name with a lilt of contempt.

Deacon sighed and, without thinking, rested his head on Fran's shoulder. Francesco seemed to tense at the gesture, but he didn't stop Deacon. In fact, after the initial shock had worn off, he relaxed and rested his head on top of Deacon's. Deacon Ackland closed his eyes and relished in the feeling. Even if it meant nothing to Fran, it truly meant everything to Deacon.

He just wished that it could last.

Benji was staring at the two of them. He managed to maintain his composure, but inside, he was absolutely ecstatic for Deacon. Though, his joy quickly died away as he realized that this was just temporary. This didn't change how Francesco felt about Deacon. Though, Benji couldn't help but notice an odd sort of look about Fran's face. One that he couldn't quite place...

He shook this off. Benji sighed and laid back on his bed, hoping against hope that Deacon knew, as well, that this gesture was only temporary. For, it truly appeared that Deacon Ackland was setting himself up for heartbreak.


	37. The New Captain

Regulus Black spent the next week and a half in the hospital wing.

When he awoke the day after the incident, he was in considerably less pain. Though, his back still hurt, but it didn't feel any worse than the Stinging Hex that Sirius had hit him with on Christmas. Regulus had to sit up with his back rested up against a wall of pillows, or else lay on his stomach so as not to disturb the wound too much.

After Regulus had woken up, Madam Pomfrey told him that his wound couldn't be healed as quickly as other injuries, so he would have to stay in the hospital wing for a few days. Twice a day, Madam Pomfrey would run a thick and cold-feeling salve over the burns on his back. She would often give him something to bite down on, as the salve and the spreading of it made the pain multiply quite exponentially.

It would induce a white-hot pain all over the area that it was rubbed on, and would fade agonizingly slowly into ice cold. She did this every morning and every afternoon. The more days that passed, the better the pain would get.

"What does this stuff even do?" Regulus asked on Wednesday, only after his body had stopped trembling from the pain.

Madam Pomfrey was silent a moment. "It sounds worse than it is. See, you were burned quite badly. Your skin, it sort of... _melted_. So, the salve is... well, it's melting it back, really."

"Melting it back?!"

"Yes. Like I said, it sounds worse than it is. It's the only thing I could think of to heal it more quickly. It seems to be working. So far, it looks much better," she gave him a smile and poured a cup of a potion to reduce the pain.

"Is it... am I going to have a scar?" Regulus asked, slipping his button-up pyjama shirt on, wincing slightly at the way that moving his arms stretched the skin of his back.

"No, dear, I don't think you will." She handed him the cup, and he downed it in one go.

Regulus let out a sigh of relief, feeling the pain washing away.

Other than Madam Pomfrey and the occasional hospital wing patient, Regulus actually had quite a bit of company. Barty would come everyday after class, bringing Regulus's homework along with him. They would sit together, either doing homework or chatting away. Barty was updating Regulus on everything happening in the school, and Regulus was fully interested. He didn't have anything else to be interested in at the moment, really. However, when Barty told Regulus that Evan Rosier hadn't been expelled, he was livid.

"How could he have not been expelled?! I'VE BEEN IN THE HOSPITAL WING FOR THREE BLOODY DAYS!" Regulus said on Monday, when Barty had finally found the right time to tell him.

"Yeah, I know. It's stupid. He's been walking around the common room like he owns the place. It's like he's bragging about it." Barty rolled his eyes. "Carson's furious. Don't think I've ever seen anyone more angry. A few times, Harrison and Wyatt have had to hold him back from hexing him. I suspect that Gillian would've held him back, if Valeria didn't have to hold her. They both want to murder him for what he did to you." Regulus could see Barty clenching his fists in his lap. " _I_ want to kill you for what he did to you. I swear, if that little rat even-"

"Mr. Crouch, if you're going to be threatening death on other students, at least wait until I am out of the room!" Madam Pomfrey called from the other side of the ward where she was sorting potions in a small cabinet.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," he said. Regulus couldn't help but laugh.

Aside from Barty, Gillian and Carson both came to visit him, too. They didn't come as much as Barty did, however. Carson was busy revising for his N.E.W.T.'s, and he still had Quidditch to worry about, too. Regulus didn't know exactly why Gillian was so busy, for they wouldn't tell him whenever he asked. Carson had seemed a bit down, as well, but Regulus passed this off as the sad thoughts of almost being done with his time at Hogwarts.

A few times over the days, all three of them had been in there at once, and Regulus Black didn't feel alone. They were laughing and joking and talking with one another, and Regulus felt, for the first time in years, that he was being included. They were just one big group of friends, and Regulus Black thought that he may have never been happier. Well, of course, he had, but not since he came to Hogwarts. Not since Sirius left.

However, his three friends seemed to fill that hole in his chest. The hole that Sirius had left him with when he left for Hogwarts.

Regulus felt whole. Regulus felt happy. And he just hoped against hope that this feeling would last.

It was Monday.

Regulus had been cooped up in the wing for nine whole days, and he was itching to get out. Madam Pomfrey finished applying the salve to Regulus's back, though he noticed that the coat was much thinner, and it was exponentially less painful. He didn't even have to bite down on anything anymore.

"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey?" Regulus asked, gingerly taking the cup of pain relieving potion that she was handing him.

"Yes, Mr. Black?" She asked, corking the lid of the potion bottle and putting it on the small table beside Regulus's hospital bed.

He downed the potion and handed her the empty cup. "I was just wondering... when can I leave?"

She gave him a curious look. "Leave the wing? Well..." she thought for a moment. "I suppose you _are_ feeling better..."

"Yeah, I am! See, I can even move my arms without it hurting!" Regulus moved his arms around in circles just to prove his point.

She shook her head, though he could see a small smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "I'll tell you what. You drink this," she poured out a cup of a blue-looking sleeping draught, "and when you wake up, _if_ you're still feeling better, you can leave."

"Ok! Thank you!" Regulus took the potion and drank it in one, big gulp.

His eyelids began to droop almost immediately. He struggled to hand her back the cup - it felt as though his limbs were made of lead. He wanted to fall backwards and fall asleep right then and there.

"Mr. Black, stomach, remember? Especially with the salve still fresh," she reprimanded him.

He nodded his head and flipped over, feeling the sheets press against his bare stomach. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt the cold pillow pressing against his cheek.

He was out within seconds.

Regulus Black awoke mid-afternoon. There was a beam of sunlight coming through the high-ceilinged windows and casting itself directly over his eyelids. Regulus let out a groan, feeling his muscles tensing and relaxing with every movement that his waking body made. He could feel the warm sunlight hitting the cold salve that had now sunk itself into his skin, and he relished in the feeling.

"Oh, you're awake," a voice cut through Regulus's gradual wake, and he forced his eyelids to open. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," he croaked, his voice hoarse with disuse and lips dry from lack of hydration.

"Would you still like to leave the ward today?"

Regulus closed his eyes again, feeling himself sink further into the bed. He nodded his head slowly.

"Are you sure? I can keep you here for a few more days, if you aren't up to it."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he mumbled, his lips moving against the pillow that he had subconsciously pressed his face into, trying to bring back the darkness that came along with sleep.

"Ok. Well, I had Mr. Crouch bring you some clothes earlier."

"Barty?" he asked.

"Yes, he was kind enough to run down to the Slytherin common room and bring you some clothes, in case you chose to remain with the decision of leaving today." He could hear something being poured, and he assumed that it was yet another potion that she would be asking him to drink. "Mr. Black came by, too. He-"

This woke Regulus right up. He sat up straight, his equilibrium being thrown off by the sudden elevational change. "Sirius?"

Madam Pomfrey gave him an odd look. "Yes, Sirius. He came by while you were asleep."

"He... he did?" Regulus was shocked. He suspected that Sirius wouldn't even visit his _grave_ with the state that their relationship was in, let alone visit him in the hospital wing.

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey handed him a potion, "drink up, it's a strengthening solution." She corked the bottle which she had poured the potion from, and Regulus sipped at it gingerly.

Regulus let out a relieved sigh, feeling the cool potion cascade down his raw and scratchy throat. He could feel his muscles getting stronger by the second - they were beginning to feel less like lead and more like what they were supposed to be: muscles.

"I don't know why you're so shocked about your brother coming to visit," Madam Pomfrey continued, "he's been doing it the whole time."

Regulus nearly spit out the potion. He inhaled rather sharply to counter the exhalation, causing the potion to go straight down his throat. He spluttered and coughed, thumping himself on the chest with his fist. "He - he what?" he asked when he was finally able to breathe properly again.

"He's been visiting you since you were put here, Mr. Black. Though, I have noticed that he only comes when you're asleep." She was silent a moment, neatening the table beside Regulus's bed. "Is there something going on?"

Regulus shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. He didn't necessarily want to give too much away, especially not to Madam Pomfrey. "Nope. Just... just thought he'd be busy, is all."

"Well, he's not too busy to visit you. I have noticed, though, that, yes he only comes when you're asleep, but he also typically shows up right before visiting hours are over. I usually have to shoo him away after not more than five minutes."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. Of course. Of course Sirius only showed up when Regulus was asleep. Of course Sirius would show up just before Madam Pomfrey kicked him out, so that he could get the moral ecstasy of visiting, without the guilt of leaving without being told. Regulus had the sinking feeling that Sirius Black was visiting less for Regulus, and more for himself.

Nevertheless, Regulus couldn't help the flutter in his chest when he thought about the fact that Sirius was visiting him. So what if he was only doing it to make himself feel like a good person, at least he was visiting him at all.

"I'll give you some time to get dressed," Madam Pomfrey said, and she took all of her potion bottles up from the table beside his bed.

He watched as she stepped briskly out of the limitations of the curtain that surrounded his bed. With the wave of her wand, those very curtains were snapped shut, leaving Regulus to his own devices. He stayed on the bed for a few moments, giving his body more time to strengthen itself.

He looked over at the pile of clothes that were folded neatly on the chair in the corner of Regulus's little area; sitting on top of the pile was the ugly Christmas jumper that Carson had given Regulus. He shook his head, a smirk quirking the corner of his lips. Of course that's what Barty had brought Regulus.

When he felt up for it, he stood up and dressed rather quickly. He was wearing black trousers, the sweater, and black shoes. When he had just finished slipping on his shoes, Madam Pomfrey came shuffling over.

"Are you ready, Mr. Black?" She asked, pausing outside of the curtain.

"Yeah," he called, plopping down on the edge of the hospital bed.

Madam Pomfrey slid the curtain away and stepped in, carrying what appeared to be a large bandage with a tan-colored underside. She put this, along with yet another vile of potion, down on the table. She looked at him, noting the jumper.

"Ok, before you leave, I need to put this on," she gestured to the bandage, "so would you please slip off the jumper for a quick moment and lie on your stomach on the bed."

Regulus nodded and pulled off the jumper that he had only just put on. "What is it?" he asked, laying down on the bed that he had occupied for the past nine days.

"It's a form of... I think muggles call it skin grafting?" She said, using a levitation charm on the bandage so as not to disrupt it.

"Skin grafting? What's that?"

"While the salve that I've been applying has helped, there's still a bit of unevenness where too much of your skin had been burned and melted away. So, this," she pointed to the bandage, "is going to graft the skin back. When it's done, your back will look good as new."

"How does it work?"

She laid the bandage down across his back, smoothing it out gently with her hands. "Well, the underside is going to morph with your skin and fill in any uneven spaces. The actual skin part of it, as it morphs with your own skin, will adapt to the natural color of your skin. Like I said, good as new."

She finished smoothing it out, whispered an incantation to adhere the edges of it to his back, and took a step away. "There we are. Ok, you'll need to come back tomorrow morning so that I can remove it, and from there we'll see if I need to add another one."

Regulus nodded and sat up, slipping his jumper back on. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes dear?" she poured a cup of green potion.

"Can I play Quidditch soon?"

She looked at him with a stern expression. "Absolutely not."

"Not even when the bandage is off?"

"No. Mr. Black, we've never seen this spell before. We don't know if there's a chance of recurrence."

"Recurrence? You mean my skin could just... melt again?"

"It's possible. We aren't sure."

"So... I can't ever play Quidditch again?"

Madam Pomfrey thought for a moment. "No, you'll be able to play again."

"Can I play at the match on Saturday?"

"No. I am going to say that you can't play Quidditch for at least the next two weeks. No practices, no matches, nothing. Not for two weeks. Understood?"

"Yes," Regulus muttered, hanging his head.

She gave him a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Black, but it's what's best. You will be able to play again, probably, but we need to be absolutely positive that your wound is fully healed first."

"Probably? There's a chance I couldn't ever play again?" Panic was rising up inside of Regulus. Sure, he hadn't played it for very long, but Regulus truly couldn't imagine a life without playing Quidditch.

"There is always a chance. Like I said, we need to be sure that recurrence isn't a possibility. And, if it is, it will most likely occur within the next two weeks. If it does, I can not promise that you'll be able to play Quidditch. If it doesn't - which I will admit, is the more likely scenario - you will be allowed to play Quidditch again."

Regulus nodded his head and took the potion that she was handing him. "What's this one do?"

"It will make your skin more susceptible to the grafting. I would suggest being more careful, though, as this will make all of your skin more sensitive, not just your back." She responded.

Regulus drank the potion, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste that came along with it. He handed her back the cup, opening and closing his mouth in distaste. Madam Pomfrey took the cup and set it down on the table.

"If you feel anything below excellent, you come straight back, alright?"

"Understood." Regulus nodded.

She eyed him warily. "Ok. You may go."

Regulus didn't hesitate. He stood from the bed and rushed out of the ward, not even giving it a second thought. When he was two floors down, he noticed that there was a flood of students heading to the entrance hall. He assumed that it must be dinner time, and he began walking all the faster. Regulus was absolutely famished.

He entered the Great Hall behind a large group of Ravenclaws. The hall was completely full, and he suspected that he and the Ravenclaw's were probably the last to arrive to dinner.

"LITTE BLACK! YOU'RE BACK!" Carson Nott slammed his hands down onto the table and stood up, excitement clear on his face.

Regulus paused in the doorway of the Great Hall, smiling sheepishly at the seventh year boy who was now practically skipping over to him.

"POMFREY LET YOU OUT?!" Carson asked once he reached Regulus. Regulus nodded his head and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Carson eyed Regulus to be sure that he was alright, and his eyes glinted at the sight of what he was wearing. "HA! YOU'RE WEARING THE JUMPER!"

Regulus looked down at his Christmas jumper and then back up towards Carson. "Yeah, it's what Barty grabbed for me," he responded, much less enthusiastic than Carson was.

Carson was grinning from ear to ear. "Come along, little Black, let's get you some dinner," he wrapped his arm 'round Regulus's shoulders and ruffled his hair with his fist.

Sirius was watching with narrowed eyes from the Gryffindor table.

"Why is the ruddy Quidditch captain all over my little brother?" he asked.

Remus and Peter, who were sitting across the table from James and Sirius, both looked over their shoulders towards where Carson and Regulus were walking to the table. They both looked back and shrugged.

"I mean, no offense, but why do you really care? Thought you said he was dead to you," Remus pointed out.

"And also, Regulus is on the Quidditch team. Of course he's going to hang out with the captain!" James exclaimed.

"Plus," Peter added, "Nott isn't the captain anymore, remember? They're replacing him because he went after Rosier for hexing Regulus?"

"He is dead to me," Sirius said hastily. "But that Carson kid, he could... what if he's working for ol' Voldy? He could be the... you know... the key to finding out what Regulus is doing for him, you know? Him and those other two," he gestured to where Regulus and Carson had just sat down with Barty Crouch Jr. and Gillian Fairman.

Remus, Peter, and James looked at one another knowingly. They all suspected that Sirius still cared a lot more about Regulus than he was letting on.

Regulus and Carson were sitting across from Gillian and Barty. The four of them were laughing quite uproariously about a joke that Gillian had made, and Carson was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Merlin," Gillian said, catching her breath from laughing so hard. Suddenly, however, she snapped back and looked at Regulus. "How are you feeling, Regulus? Are you alright? How's your back?"

"I'm ok," he assured her.

"Positive?"

"Certain. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have let me out if she wasn't sure I was fine. Believe me, that woman is nothing if not dedicated. I would move a fraction of an inch and she would think I was dying."

The four of them started laughing again.

"Look at them," muttered Evan Rosier from down the table, sneering at the group.

Severus Snape rolled his eyes. "Leave it be. What are you going to do, hex him again? You won't be able to weasel your way out of it twice," he hissed.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I won't bloody hex him again. Yet."

"Hey you lot," Wyatt Pearce and Harrison Willis came up behind the group of four, sliding themselves onto the bench beside Regulus. "Hey, Regulus, Pomfrey let you out?" Harrison leaned forward so he could see past Wyatt.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you didn't hear, Carson practically announced it to the whole hall." Regulus said, pointing to Carson with his thumb.

"Oh, trust me, we heard," Wyatt said, smirking at Carson, who was on the opposite side of Regulus from himself.

"What was I supposed to do? Little Black here just came back from a near-death experience!" he pat Regulus on the shoulder, careful to avoid his back.

The six of them began to laugh.

"Hey, Gillian," Harrison said, being the first one to recover from laughter.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning to face him.

He looked at Carson, his brow slightly furrowed. "I - er - are we having practice today?"

The six of them were quiet. Gillian's eyes darted to Carson for a fraction of a second, and then she turned back to Harrison. "Yeah. Eight to nine."

He nodded his head. "Thanks."

He and Wyatt stood up, said bye to all four people in turn, and then retreated back down the table. Regulus watched them go, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"Why was Harrison asking you?" He turned to Gillian.

She looked uncomfortably at Carson, and then Barty. She seemed to be posing him a question with her eyes, and he shook his head with an equal amount of discomfort. Carson was staring down at the table very, very hard.

Gillian cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "Well, after Carson went after Evan Rosier, Dumbledore and Slughorn thought it... inappropriate that someone like that remain as Quidditch captain..."

Regulus's eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise. " _WHAT_?!"

Carson took a sip of pumpkin juice and nodded his head. "Yup. The little git got me kicked off as captain. And he didn't even get a detention." Carson's voice was laced with disgust.

"But - but... that's not fair!"

"Yeah, it isn't. We all tried to protest it - well, most of us. Macnair and Mulciber didn't. Don't really like Carson that much. And obviously you couldn't because you were in the hospital wing, and we left the decision up to Barty if he wanted to tell you," Gillian gestured to Barty.

"I didn't want to put anymore stress on you, so I decided to wait until you were out of the hospital," Barty said, giving Regulus an apologetic look.

"It's alright," Regulus said, and he looked back towards Gillian. "So, you tried to protest it? What happened?"

Gillian shrugged. "Nothing. They said that the decision was final, but that Carson could still stay on the Quidditch team. He just couldn't be captain. So, they took a few days to deliberate over who they wanted instead, and... well," she gestured to herself.

"You're the new captain?" Regulus asked.

"Yup. Slughorn admitted that I was on track to be the captain next term anyways - you know, after Carson's graduated - so I was the obvious choice."

Regulus nodded his head slowly, and then looked sympathetically at Carson. "I'm really sorry, Carson."

Carson waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault."

"But it is! If I had just left Rosier alone-"

"Regulus," Carson said firmly, cutting him off, "it is _not_ your fault. I am not going to sit here and allow you to blame yourself for this. You weren't the one who tried to melt someone's ruddy skin away."

This didn't ease the guilt that Regulus felt. And it truly didn't diminish the hatred that Regulus felt for Evan Rosier, either. Nevertheless, he dropped the subject. He could tell by the firmness in Carson's voice that it was likely to just turn into an argument, and Regulus really didn't want to get into an argument with him. He enjoyed having a good friend group like the one that he had somehow found himself in, and he wanted more than anything to not mess it up.

"Hey, speaking of Quidditch, when are you coming back?" Gillian asked, looking at Regulus.

He sighed and took a bite of his roll to avoid the question for as long as possible. "Pomfrey said I can't come back for at least two weeks."

Carson choked on the ribs that he had just bitten into. "Two weeks?! How are we supposed to win the Saturday match without our Seeker!"

Gillian looked just as concerned. "You're sure that there's not a... a loophole or something? I don't know if we'll be able to find a suitable Seeker by Saturday!"

He shook his head. "She was pretty firm. She said that I can't play for two weeks until we know for sure that the hex that I was hit with won't recur."

" _RECUR_?!" Gillian, Carson, and Barty all shouted at once. Their voices rang through the hall, and several people looked over at the group. They didn't seem to notice.

"What do you mean recur?! It could just start burning again?!" Gillian asked frantically.

"I swear to Merlin, I'm going to kill that little prat!" Carson said.

Regulus shrugged. "She said that, since she's never seen it before, she doesn't know if there's a chance of it just, like, recurring. She said that, if it's going to, it'll happen within the next two weeks. So, she said I can't play Quidditch for two weeks."

"Well... can you still come to practices? You don't have to participate, but you could help give the replacement Seeker some pointers at least?" Gillian asked.

"I could," Regulus nodded.

Gillian nodded and stood up from the table. "Excellent, thank you. Now, if you lot will excuse me, I'm going to go find ourselves a replacement Seeker," and she disappeared down the length of the table.

The following morning, Regulus went to Madam Pomfrey just as he had promised. He laid down on a bed, crossing his arms and resting his face in the crook of his elbow. Madam Pomfrey took off the bandage and began muttering something to herself as she tossed it into a rubbish bin.

Regulus stayed silent, feeling her poke and prod at the skin on his back.

"Well," she said after a few moments, "looks like it worked."

"Really?" Regulus asked, lifting his face from his arms.

"Yup. Looks good as new. Feels normal, too. I'd say you're completely healed," she smiled at him as he sat up and began slipping his uniform back on.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he said, buttoning up the front of his white oxford.

"Of course, dear. And, you're feeling alright? It feels normal?"

"Yes, feels like nothing happened at all."

"Excellent," she walked away from the bed, bustling around the ward and neatening the beds. "I would like to see you every other day for the next two weeks, to be sure that everything stays normal. And remember what I said, Mr. Black. No-"

"No Quidditch for two weeks," he finished.

She nodded her head in approval. "Have a good day of classes."

"Thanks. Have a good day of - uh - healing." He hopped off of the bed.

"Thank you, Mr. Black." She said, a lilt of amusement in her voice.

Regulus walked to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom alone, seeing as how he had insisted that Barty finish his breakfast rather than come with him to the hospital wing. However, he quickly regretted this when he arrived at the classroom at precisely the same time as Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone.

The four of them stopped outside of the door, and the three Gryffindor's eyed Regulus suspiciously. There was silence.

"So, you aren't dead, then?" Francesco asked, being the first one to speak.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Do I _look_ dead?"

"Could be an Inferius," Francesco pointed out, his voice laced with disdain.

Regulus rolled his eyes. Deacon looked at Francesco in confusion. "An Inferius?" he asked.

Benji pat him on the back and leaned over so that he was speaking directly to him. "We'll tell you later."

Francesco and Benji walked into the classroom without another word, but Deacon stayed in the hallway.

"Dea?" Benji asked, poking his head back into the hall. "You coming?"

"Uh - yeah, yeah just give me a second." Deacon said, and he gave Benji a smile.

Benji's eyes darted warily between Regulus and Deacon, but he retreated back into the classroom nonetheless.

Regulus and Deacon stood in silence, just looking at one another.

"Well?" Regulus asked.

"Well what?" Deacon inquired.

"Are you going to say something, or are you blocking the door for no reason?"

Deacon hadn't realized that he was standing in front of the door. He quickly moved out of the way so that Regulus could walk into the classroom.

Regulus took the opportunity, and he took a step forward.

"Wait, Regulus," Deacon said, stopping Regulus from entering the room.

"What?" he didn't even turn his whole body to face Deacon, just his head.

Deacon gave Regulus a warm smile. "I'm glad you're ok. Just so you know."

Regulus's hand fell from the door knob in surprise. Though, he quickly recovered and grabbed it again, hoping that Deacon hadn't noticed. "Yeah - uh - thanks."

Deacon nodded his head. They stood in silence for a few moments. Deacon cleared his throat and pointed to the door handle, which was still in Regulus's grip.

"Are you going to open the door?" he asked, giving him a smirk.

"Oh - uh - right, yeah," he opened the door and stepped inside quickly, disappearing into the classroom.

Deacon followed close behind, glancing at Regulus as he made his way across the back of the room and towards his shared desk with Benji. He smiled to himself, for he had definitely noticed the falter in Regulus's hand when he had said he was glad that he was ok.

He just hoped that his "thanks" instead of "I don't care what you think" was, like Halloween had been, a break through.


	38. Acquaintances

Slytherin lost their match against Ravenclaw by ten points.

Their new Seeker hadn't caught the Snitch, but Ravenclaw's Keeper was off of his game the day of the match. Slytherin scored goal after goal after goal, but Ravenclaw's Seeker caught the Snitch just in the nick of time. Gillian and Carson were both fairly upset about the loss, but they didn't let it affect them too much. In fact, the night of the match, Barty, Regulus, Carson, and Gillian all spent the night in the common room.

They played Gobstones and Wizard's Chess in teams of two, they talked, they laughed, and they even played a game called Charades that Barty told them about. According to him, it was a muggle game that his old nanny, who had been a half-blood, played with him when he was very young. They played in two teams, Barty and Regulus v. Carson and Gillian, and Barty and Regulus won.

On Monday, 28 January, Regulus was in the hospital wing first thing in the morning. Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all surprised to see him there so early, and was even standing by a bed for him to sit on when he arrived.

"Well, I am very pleased to say that it looks normal. Hasn't recurred. Looks like nothing even happened at all," she withdrew her hands from where she was carefully examining the skin of Regulus's back. "I'd say that you-"

"Can play Quidditch again?!" Regulus asked, excitement coursing through his veins.

"Yes, I'd say that you should be able to play Quidditch."

Regulus Black was practically jumping up and down with excitement as he slipped his uniform back on. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!" He ran out of the hospital wing, still pulling on his vest, Slytherin tie draped loosely around his neck, and robes flung over his left arm.

Poppy Pomfrey shook her head, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth as she neatened up the bed that Regulus had been occupying mere seconds before.

"I CAN PLAY QUIDDITCH AGAIN!" Regulus shouted, dropping down on the bench next to Barty and across from Gillian and Carson.

Carson let out a whopping shout of excitement. "We'll win the next match for sure! HEY, YOU HEAR THAT, HUFFLEPUFF? REGULUS IS BACK, WE'RE GOING TO BEAT YOUR A-" he had stood up from the table and was shouting directly at the long table of Hufflepuff's.

"MR. NOTT!" Slughorn called from the table, though his voice was more jovial than angry.

Carson plopped back down onto the bench, though his happiness didn't die down. "We're going to win for sure! Especially with our star Seeker back!"

Regulus was grinning ear to ear.

Regulus sat down at the four person desk in Potions. Deacon, Benji, and Fran were all there already, and Benji and Fran were deep in conversation about something that they had read in the Daily Prophet that morning. Deacon, on the other hand, turned his full attention to Regulus the second that he sat down.

"You're back on the team?" Deacon asked in a friendly manner.

Regulus looked up from the table, his eyes meeting Deacon's. He nodded his head. "I was never off of it. But yeah, Pomfrey cleared me this morning. I can play in the match against Hufflepuff in March."

Deacon smiled at him. "Congratulations."

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, thanks."

Deacon turned back to his two best mates, who hadn't noticed that Deacon was talking to Regulus at all. Regulus looked at the smaller boy, studying him.

In the hospital wing, Regulus had had a lot of time to think. Or, rather, he had a lot of time away from Severus Snape. He was able to think about what Barty had said to him just before Evan Rosier hexed him.

Barty was convinced that house elves were on the same level of the hierarchy as muggle-borns. And, Regulus knew that Barty was one of the smartest students in their year, so he was probably right. What this meant for Regulus was the question.

If Regulus was to believe what Barty had said, then that meant that Deacon Ackland was truly not that different. The points that he had been arguing with himself about it for the past few months, they were true. Deacon Ackland truly was a wizard. Yes, he was muggle-born and logically shouldn't have any wizard blood in him at all, but that didn't mean that he wasn't a brilliant wizard.

It was the same with Lily Evans. Sure, she was muggle-born, but she was still the brightest witch in her entire year. And, to top it off, Severus Snape was friends with her. He was best friends with her.

So, if a prat like Severus Snape could be friends with a muggle-born, why couldn't Regulus? _Could_ Regulus be friends with Deacon Ackland? Regulus had to admit, the prospect of it was rather appealing.

Though, he knew that his parents would never be ok with that. If his parents ever found out, and he suspected that Evan Rosier would take the chance to snitch the second that he got it, then he was as good as dead. His parents would lose their minds if they discovered that their one respectable son was friends with a mudblood.

And Regulus really didn't want to have to face the wrath of his parents, especially not when they had been so civil to him ever since he had started working for the Dark Lord. And besides, just because mudbloods and house elves were on the same level, that didn't mean that they were equal. No, no house elves had to be higher than mudbloods. They just had to be. So, he pushed the thought of being friends with Deacon aside, and he focused on the present.

It was Valentine's Day.

Regulus had been pouring himself into Quidditch since he got cleared to go back. He was so dedicated to make up for the three weeks that he had spent away from the sport that he was even spending some of his free time out on the pitch. Barty would sit in the stands, watching Regulus zoom around the pitch after the Snitch.

Gillian cancelled practice on Valentine's Day. She said that she had other things to attend to, but judging by the fact that neither she or Carson could be seen at dinner, he thought that he had a pretty good idea of what she was really doing. He had noticed that, this term especially, she had been ignoring Corban Yaxley all together. He suspected that she and Carson were getting along a lot more than they were letting on.

Neither Regulus or Barty had any plans for the day, so they had come to the conclusion that they would just spend the night hanging out in the common room. While Regulus was doing his habitual check of the Gryffindor table, he noticed that Deacon Ackland looked rather down. He furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly had gotten the Gryffindor second year so sad, especially on a holiday.

Deacon Ackland was pushing the food 'round his plate, not even bothering to eat it. Benji, who was sitting next to him, was looking at him sympathetically. Across the table, Francesco and Lennox were being rather lovey-dovey. They were whispering and giggling with one another, holding hands, and they both had a happy flush to their face.

Benji was worried that this would happen. Lennox and Fran were nothing if not affectionate in front of others. They would hold hands almost everywhere that they went, and Deacon had so far been fairly successful when it came to ignoring that. However, Valentine's Day was an entirely different story.

Benji leaned over so that he could talk to Deacon without the other two hearing him. "Are you alright?"

Deacon nodded his head, but he didn't look up from his plate. Benji sighed.

"No! Deacon, can you settle this for us, please?" Lennox asked, looking at Deacon from over the top of her circular glasses.

"Huh? Settle what?" Deacon looked up, unable to keep the sad expression from his face.

Francesco and Lennox didn't seem to notice. "Who has the prettier eyes? Me, or Fran?"

"Fran," Deacon said without a second thought. Fran gave him a funny look, and Benji looked warily between the two boys. "I just - uh - er - I guess... I guess Lennox..." Deacon was trying to back track, and he could feel his cheeks burning.

"Ha! I told you, Fran! Sorry, blue always beats brown," she said, and she hit Francesco playfully on the shoulder.

Fran was still giving Deacon a funny look. It wasn't confusion, but it also wasn't anger or joy. It was quite unreadable, really. Deacon cleared his throat and looked at the table quickly.

Francesco shook his head, as if to shake the thoughts out, and then turned to Lennox. "Oh come on, blue's boring! Not that your eyes are boring! They're pretty! You're pretty!"

Benji shifted uncomfortably. Deacon glanced up and looked at Fran and Lennox through the cover of his lashes.

They were kissing.

Deacon felt a pang in his chest, and his eyes welling up with tears.

He stood up from the table. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you guys back in the dorm room," and he walked off quickly.

Fran followed Deacon with his eyes, and then quickly broke away from Lennox, turning to Benji. "Hey, is Dea alright? What's wrong with him?"

Benji shrugged, carefully avoiding Fran's eyes. "Dunno. Maybe he's not feeling well."

"Yeah... maybe..." but Fran couldn't help but think that there was more to what was going on with his best mate.

Deacon walked through the dark and empty corridors of Hogwarts with no particular destination in mind. He had his hands buried deep in his pockets, focusing very hard on not crying. His heart was beating so hard and fast inside of his chest that he was afraid it would hit his ribs wrong and just shatter.

He knew that he and Fran would never happen. They could never happen. Fran didn't like boys. Fran didn't like Deacon, and he could never like Deacon.

Deacon then came to the rather painful realization that, sometimes, perhaps cupid runs out of their precious arrows, and can only shoot one person. Not two. And it broke his heart. Deacon Ackland was absolutely positive that he had a broken heart.

Deacon closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, stopping in the middle of the hall. He didn't necessarily know which wing of the castle he was in, or even how far away he was from the Great Hall. All Deacon Ackland knew was that, in that moment, he just wanted to disappear.

When Fran and Benji returned to their dorm room after dinner, it was to find it empty. Deacon Ackland was no where to be found.

Barty was asleep on the couch in the common room. He had fallen asleep at nine, and Regulus had been sitting up in the common room for the past hour, alone. Everyone had vacated it - they were all either still out with their partners, or they were asleep.

Regulus sighed and closed the book that he had been reading, setting it down on the coffee table in front of him. He was bored, but he wasn't tired, either.

He needed something to do.

He thought of Quidditch, and the idea struck him. He stood up and rushed up to his dorm room, grabbed his broom, and darted right back down the stairs. Within minutes, Regulus was on his way out to the pitch.

It was cold, and Regulus was shivering, despite his layers of clothes. However, he still liked it quite a lot. When he reached the pitch, he walked into the Slytherin locker room and grabbed the Snitch. He walked out onto the field, and found that, once again, he wasn't alone.

Deacon Ackland was sat in the middle of the field, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped 'round his legs, and head thrown back so that he was looking directly up at the sky. Regulus could see his shoulders shaking, and he could've sworn that he saw a glint of moonlight on his cheeks, as though they were wet.

Deacon hadn't seen Regulus yet. He could turn right around and pretend that he had never come at all. However, something deep down inside of him was telling him to approach Deacon. So, that's what he did.

He walked slowly and quietly, careful not to alarm the boy.

Deacon didn't notice Regulus approaching at all, until the moonlight that had been beaming down onto his face was suddenly blocked. He tilted his head to the left, and his eyes landed upon the still-approaching form of Regulus Black. Normally, Deacon would've been rather happy to see Regulus Black approaching him willingly. However, under the circumstances, he was less than thrilled.

He looked back to the sky, sniffling. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Regulus Black shoved the Snitch into his pocket, dropped his broom onto the ground, and stood rather awkwardly.

"Hullo," Regulus said.

"Hi," Deacon replied, his voice weak and shaky.

Regulus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and he began picking at the skin 'round his nails. "Are - uh - are you alright?"

Deacon couldn't help but chuckle, and he looked him in the eye. "Do I look alright?"

"Not really."

"Well, there's your answer, I s'pose," he sniffled again and took a deep breath.

Regulus sat down in the grass next to him. He was cross legged, and he began to pick and pull at the grass around his legs. Both boys were silent.

"Why are you here?" Deacon asked. His voice seemed to be only slightly stronger, and no less wobbly. Even then, it was still said in a friendly rather than accusatory tone.

Regulus shrugged. "I was bored. Why are you out here?"

Deacon was quiet. "I just wanted somewhere to be alone," he muttered, and he hung his head so that he was staring down at his knees.

"Alone from what?" Curiosity was ever-so-slowly taking over Regulus.

Deacon shrugged. "Can't really tell you that." He sniffled again.

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "It has to do with Francesco, doesn't it?"

He looked over at Deacon, and noticed that his entire body had tensed. "No."

"Whatever you say," Regulus mumbled, obviously not believing a word that Deacon was saying.

"It doesn't!" Deacon said, trying to sound as convincing as he possibly could.

Regulus still didn't believe him. But he let it drop. The two were silent.

Regulus took a deep breath and laid back, feeling the cold ground pressed against his back. Deacon glanced over at him, and then did the same.

Regulus placed his hands one on top of the other on his stomach, analyzing the stars above him. Out on the pitch, Regulus truly felt that he could be himself. When he was around Deacon Ackland, he felt he could be himself. He didn't know why, he didn't even like Deacon that much! But he just... felt his defenses dropping. Especially when he was on the dark pitch, and alone with Deacon Ackland. Regulus found himself thinking about the hierarchy again.

He turned his head so that he was looking at the other boy, and his eyes traced his side profile. Perhaps being friends with Deacon wouldn't be so bad. No, not friends, acquaintances. Yes, Regulus could be acquaintances with Deacon Ackland. He could be acquaintances with Deacon, and he couldn't tell anyone about it. He could be secret acquaintances with Deacon Ackland.

He looked back at the sky, feeling his defenses dropping further by the second. He took a deep breath, and his eyes darted from star to star.

He lifted his right arm and pointed to one. "That's Regulus," he said.

He heard Deacon chuckle beside him. "I forgot you were named after a star."

"Pretty much my whole family is. Regulus, Sirius, Orion, Bellatrix," his pointer finger moved to the respective star as he said it, "and Andromeda, but that's a galaxy."

"Your family really has a thing for stars, huh?"

Regulus nodded his head and dropped his hand back onto his stomach. "Yeah, they do."

Deacon laughed. He could feel the sadness leaving him with every second that Regulus Black spent speaking to him, and he suddenly greatly appreciated his decision to not shoo him away. The two spent another few moments in silence, and once again, Regulus Black was the one to break it.

"So... what's wrong?" Regulus asked.

"You already asked me that," Deacon pointed out.

"And you didn't tell me, did you?"

Deacon turned his head to look at Regulus. "Being hexed really changed you, didn't it?"

Regulus looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You're nice now. You aren't even trying to put on the whole 'oh my name is Regulus Black and I hate all non pure-bloods and think that they should die because they're less than me' act. Or, we can't forget the 'I'm Regulus Black and I hate everyone and don't have any friends because I'm such a cold and evil person'."

Regulus frowned. "I don't act like that."

"Oh, but you do. You really, really do. Especially around the other Slytherin's. I get it, don't get me wrong. Fran, Benji, and your brother have told me enough about the Slytherin's and your family to know why you have to do it."

Regulus was silent a moment. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I am."

A smirk quirked the corner of Regulus's mouth. Another long silence.

"What's wrong?" Regulus broke it.

Deacon let out a sigh. "I _told_ you, I'm not going to tell you!"

"I'm not going to stop asking until you tell me."

"Then you'll be asking for a while."

"I'll ask about it in class, too. I'll follow you around the school and never stop asking. I'll annoy you so much that you'll wish you never even came to the school."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"Not in front of the Slytherin's."

"Just tell me."

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Nope."

"What's wrong?"

"Not telling you."

"What's wrong?"

No response.

"What's wrong?"

Nothing.

"What's wrong?"

"Will you stop?!" Deacon asked, though there was a note of humor mixing with his voice. "Why do you even want to know so bad?"

"Because, I just want to know."

"But why?"

Regulus shrugged. "We're... acquaintances."

Deacon raised an eyebrow. "Acquaintances?"

"Yes. Acquaintances."

Deacon couldn't keep the smile off of his face. Yes, acquaintances certainly didn't mean friends. But it was better than nothing. And Deacon Ackland was willing to take whatever he could get.

"So?"

"Just because we're acquaintances doesn't mean I'm going to tell you."

"I know it's about Francesco."

"It's not about Fran."

"But it is. And I know it is."

"How would you possibly know that?"

"I'm very observant."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you observed wrong."

Regulus thought for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the sky above. He recalled the sullen look on Deacon's face when he had been looking at Francesco and the other girl. He decided to go with it, for it was truly the only other clue that he had.

"You don't like that Francesco is dating that girl?"

Deacon's muscles tensed, and he was careful to continue staring at the sky. "What makes you say that?"

Just based off of the reaction, Regulus knew that he was getting somewhere. "Do you like her?"

Deacon shook his head. "No, I don't like Lennox."

"Then why don't you like that she's dating him?"

"I never said I didn't."

"But you don't?"

Deacon looked at him in exasperation. Regulus Black was nothing if not persistent. And, for whatever reason, Deacon didn't think that he could truly argue with him anymore. He was a rather convincing bloke, Regulus was.

"No."

"Why?"

"Can't tell you that."

Regulus thought a moment, and it hit him. Well, he didn't know whether or not he was actually correct, but it did seem to make sense in his mind. He tried to remain as nonchalant as possible.

"You like Francesco?" He asked.

The silence turned to an uncomfortable and ringing one.

Deacon was practically screaming at himself inside of his head. This was the third person. The third ruddy person who had found out. At this rate, the entire school would probably know by his fourth year. He felt tears welling up in his eyes again. He didn't know why, exactly. Sure, he had cried when the same thing happened with Benji, but he was fine when it was Clementine. Then, he remembered that Clementine didn't know who Deacon liked. Both Regulus and Benji had not only discovered that he liked boys, but they had also found out exactly which one it was. Something about the confirmation that he liked his best mate made Deacon want to cry.

He didn't respond, which was response enough for Regulus.

Truthfully, Regulus didn't really know what to think about the discovery that he had just made. It all made sense. The way that Deacon's mood seemed to dim whenever he was around Francesco and his girlfriend, whoever that may be. The look that he had given Francesco and Clementine the first day back from holiday break the year before. The look of adoration that he always seemed to give Francesco whenever he opened his mouth to speak. The state of unease that he had gone into when Milo Bell, their Defense teacher from the year before, had brought up his ex-girlfriend who had fallen for another girl. The way that he reacted to the comments that Evan Rosier made about it.

In all honesty, Regulus didn't think that he necessarily felt anything about it. He hadn't really felt anything about when Milo Bell had told them that exact story the year before, and he didn't feel anything now. It was the same thing with Remus Lupin. In theory, these revelations would change something about the way that Regulus saw a person. However, in practice, they didn't change a single thing. Regulus looked over at Deacon Ackland, and he didn't see anything different.

He was still Deacon Ackland.

Regulus looked back to the stars. "It's ok."

Deacon looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Really."

Regulus expected that the main reason why he had chosen those exact words to say to Deacon was because he had always wanted someone to say them to him. Someone who wasn't Sirius, or Gillian, or Carson, or Barty. Someone who didn't have any familial or friendly obligations. Someone who had chosen to say them to him of their own free will. He wanted more than anything for someone to tell him that having doubts about the Dark Lord was ok. That wanting to be friends with a muggle-born was ok. That it was ok. That he was ok.

Deacon Ackland, on the other hand, was seeing Regulus Black in a whole new light; both figuratively, and literally, seeing as how the moon had shifted its position in the sky by a few degrees, and was now shiny directly onto Regulus's face. Deacon, while he truly did believe that Regulus was a good person, would have expected a bit of a different reaction from him.

He observed the way that the moonlight was casting itself onto Regulus's face, giving his skin the appearance that it was glowing. The moon was shining only slightly more on his left side than his right, which cast several short shadows over his face. These shadows included the silhouette of his nose, his eyelashes, and his lips. Deacon Ackland's eyes lingered on the shadow of his lips the longest.

He didn't know what could have possibly come over him. One minute, he was tracing the way that the moonlight illuminated Regulus Black's side profile with his eyes, and the next moment, Deacon's lips were pressed against his.

He didn't know why he did it. He didn't hold any romantic feelings for Regulus Black. Even as their lips were pressed against one another, he still didn't feel any sense of romantic feelings blossoming inside of him. There were no butterflies in his stomach, no flutter in his heart. Nothing.

But he had done it. And there was no taking it back.

He had his palms splayed in the grass, and he was leaning over the other boy. Regulus Black's lips were cold.

Deacon Ackland's lips were chapped.

Regulus Black was so shocked that, at first, he didn't move. He could feel Deacon's curly brown hair brushing against his cheek and the breath coming from his nose tickling the corner of his mouth. He snapped out of it.

He quickly withdrew his hands from his stomach and pressed them firmly on Deacon Ackland's shoulders, pushing him backwards and sitting up in one swift motion. They looked at one another with wide eyes, both unsure what to say. Deacon was the first one to speak.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry! I'm so - that was so - I'm so sorry!" he stood up from the ground and, without a word, he began walking briskly to the locker rooms.

Regulus was frozen. His eyes were still wide, and his jaw was dropped. Deacon Ackland had kissed Regulus Black. Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland had kissed. And Regulus still didn't feel anything. He still didn't have any angry or odd feelings about the boy. The boy was still Deacon Ackland. Deacon Ackland was still himself. And it made Regulus feel confused. He didn't know what to think. Not feeling angry or disgusted by what had just happened went against everything that Regulus grew up knowing. Regulus didn't know who he was in that moment, and he didn't know what to do, either. Though, these revelations didn't do anything to diminish the shock that he was in.

However, he quickly snapped back to reality, and he stood from the ground. If Regulus was going to feel revolted by himself, he didn't want Deacon to have to feel that way, too.

"Deacon!" He called, and he jogged after the boy.

"No, no, I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did that!" There was panic and regret in Deacon's voice, and he didn't turn around.

"Deacon, wait!" He stepped in front of the boy, placing his splayed palms on Deacon's chest to stop him from walking.

Deacon was trembling, and he had silent tears cascading down his cheeks. "Regulus, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry. I don't - I don't have feelings for you it's just, I don't know, you were there, and you said it was ok, and you just - I don't know! I'm so sorry! I'm so, so, so, so-"

"Deacon!" Regulus cut him off. "Deacon, it's ok."

"It's not! I - I kissed you! I kissed you! Merlin, I kissed you! That's not ok! I'm so sorry!"

"Deacon, listen to me. It's alright."

Deacon paused, swallowing the lump that was rising in his throat and sniffling. "It is? You're - you're not mad?"

Regulus shook his head. "I feel like I should be. But, I don't know, I'm just... I'm not."

Deacon's lower lip was trembling. "I'm so sorry."

"Deacon, stop apologizing. It's alright. It's a little bit weird, but it's alright."

Deacon sniffled and wiped the snot away from his nose with the back of his hand. "You still want to be acquaintances?" his voice was shaky and thick with emotion.

Regulus nodded his head. "Sure. But, we cannot be acquaintances around the other Slytherin's. Or around anyone, really. Just so you know."

Despite himself, Deacon chuckled. "Don't worry, I know. Fran and Benji would have my head."

Regulus let out a chuckle. He looked at Deacon, studying the boy to be sure that truly nothing had changed. Just as he suspected, nothing had. The shock of the kiss was still wearing away, but he still saw Deacon Ackland as Deacon Ackland. Nothing else.

Though, Regulus did feel like he was having just a bit of an identity crisis. With everything that he had grown up learning, he knew that he should have different feelings. He should feel disgusted by the boy in front of him. Not only was he a muggle-born, but was also a muggle-born boy who liked other boys, and had _kissed him_. He should feel outraged. But he didn't. And it made Regulus feel disgusted and outraged at himself. Regulus Black truly thought that, if he looked in a mirror at that very moment, he wouldn't recognize the person staring back at him.

Merlin, how much Regulus just wanted someone to tell him that it was ok. He just wanted someone to tell him that it was all ok.

Deacon's face was suddenly contorted by worry and sadness, which snapped Regulus back to the present. "You can't tell anyone. No one. I just - this can't get out. Please."

"I won't," Regulus replied, cutting Deacon off before he could say anything else. "No offense, but I wouldn't really want it to get out, either."

Deacon nodded his head, and he gave Regulus a small smile. "Promise?"

"I swear."

They were silent. Regulus looked back to the area in the middle of the pitch where his broom was still sitting, and he looked back to Deacon.

"Wanna look at the stars?"

Deacon smiled, wiping the tears off of his cheeks with his hands. "Sure. Acquaintance."

The two boys laid back down in the grass, examining the stars and talking about their knowledge of the constellations. To Regulus's surprise, Deacon actually knew quite a lot about them.

"Regulus," Deacon said after what felt like hours had passed by.

"Yeah?" Regulus asked.

"It's ok."

Regulus was so taken aback that he whipped his head towards Deacon too fast, and a nerve pinched in his neck. He didn't give a reaction, he just stared at Deacon in surprise. "What?"

Deacon looked at him, too, and smiled "You're not the only one who's observant. I don't know what's going on, but I have a few ideas. And, I know how much you probably need to hear it. So, it's ok."

Regulus looked back up at the stars, a million thoughts running through his head. But, above all, in that moment, Regulus Black knew one thing: it was ok.

In that moment, Deacon Ackland and Regulus Black were just two boys who felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders, just with two simple words.

_It's ok._


	39. Professors Prewett One and Prewett Two

"And, you're sure they were out of the room?"

Voldemort closed his eyes, and his face contorted to one of irritation. "Yes. Do you think I'm an idiot, Greyback? Do you think I can't handle things by myself? Because, in case you haven't noticed, I'm the head of this whole operation. So, unless you want to find out what happens to those who question my authority, I suggest you _shut your mouth_." He snapped.

Fenrir Greyback eyed the Dark Lord in amusement, leaning in the door frame of the parlor of Lestrange Manor. "Relax, I was just making sure. Wouldn't want any... interferences."

"Yes, well, I made sure that the children were out of the room when I briefed them. And, you're set? Everything is a go for the March full moon?"

"Yup. Everything is just peachy," Greyback said this with a note of humor in his tone, but the Dark Lord didn't laugh.

"Good. It's taken you long enough. What has it been, Greyback? Nearly _three_ full moons?"

Greyback's face turned to one of stone. "We've been gathering recruits for the last two moons. We have to keep a very... low-profile."

"Keep a low-profile?" Questioned Voldemort.

"Well, yeah. We want this to work out, we're gonna need more'n twenty wolves, and if we attack every month, people'll catch on." Greyback said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And, you have more than twenty wolves now?"

A twisted smile crept onto Greyback's face, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, yes. We have more'n seventy."

Deacon returned to his dorm room that night, experiencing a mixture of feelings. First and foremost, Deacon Ackland was absolutely positive that he didn't like Regulus Black romantically. Second of all, he was certain that Regulus Black didn't hold any romantic feelings for him, which he was glad for. Third, Regulus and Deacon were friends. No, not friends, acquaintances. They were acquaintances, and Deacon was quite happy about it.

However, he also knew that Regulus would probably still act mean to him in front of others. Deacon knew that Regulus was probably having a lot of second thoughts about everything. Because, as far as Deacon could tell, Regulus Black genuinely thought himself as the person that he made himself out to be to others. Deacon felt quite bad for him, really. From the things that he had heard about his family, he knew that they were absolutely awful. Sirius constantly talked about how awful his family was, and how awful his brother was in turn. So, Deacon knew that Regulus Black would probably have second thoughts. He would most definitely have second thoughts, really. Deacon just needed to be patient with the boy, and perhaps one day, they could truly be friends. Deacon was holding onto hope that they could. One day.

Deacon just hoped against hope that Regulus Black would keep his promise and not tell anyone about what had happened on the pitch.

He entered his dorm room quietly, for he had glanced at the clock in the common room and discovered that it was half past two in the morning. Not wanting to wake the others, he shut the door and padded silently towards his bed.

He could hear the level breathing of the other boys, so he knew that they were both probably asleep. With a sigh of relief, Deacon dropped down onto his bed and closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth that was slowly seeping into his body.

Suddenly, however, he felt the mattress at the foot of his bed dip, as though someone were sitting down. He opened his eyes and sat upright quickly.

Francesco Anderson was sitting on the end of his bed, looking at him curiously.

"Oh. Hi," Deacon said, and he pulled his knees towards him so that he was sitting cross-legged.

"Hi," Francesco responded. His voice was quiet, so as not to wake up Benji, who was sleeping peacefully in his own bed. "Where have you been?"

Deacon shrugged. "I was out on the pitch wi-" he cut himself off quickly, closing his mouth and looking at the pattern of the duvet beneath him.

"With?" Francesco asked.

"No. No, I wasn't with anyone. It was just me." Deacon said, keeping his voice steady and, even he had to admit, rather convincing.

Francesco was quiet a moment. "What were you doing?"

Deacon looked at him, and they met eyes. "I was looking at the stars."

Francesco looked at Deacon, and the two boys were silent. Francesco had a million different thoughts running through his head, and he didn't know which one to focus on first. He made the decision, and he went with it.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, just above a whisper.

Deacon furrowed his brow in confusion, and he shook his head. "No? Why would you think you did something wrong?"

"I don't know, you've just been acting odd lately. Like, you don't really talk to me that much anymore, and you left dinner and then didn't come back, and then when Benji and I came back you weren't here. I dunno, it just kind of... it kind of feels like you're avoiding me."

"I'm not." Deacon said quickly. "It's just... there's been a lot of stuff going on. I'm sorry."

Francesco shook his head. "Don't apologize. I was just wondering."

They were silent, staring at one another through the dark. Neither of them knew what to say.

"Well, goodnight," Francesco whispered, and he stood up from the bed.

"Goodnight," Deacon replied.

That night, both boys fell asleep with thoughts racing through their minds.

Deacon Ackland was right. Regulus Black woke up the next morning in a sea of regret.

He had stayed up most of the night staring into the darkness, thinking. Regulus was absolutely revolted by himself. Regulus didn't know what he had been thinking. He couldn't possibly be friends with Deacon Ackland. He was a muggle-born! If anyone ever found out, Regulus's parents would be furious. The Dark Lord would be furious.

Regulus was an idiot. Regulus was an absolute, complete, utter idiot. And he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know if he wanted to fix it. He wanted to be friends with Deacon. He wanted to be a part of their friend group. They were always laughing and smiling. They were always happy. Yes, of course Regulus had his own friend group now, but it would be nice to be part of more than one.

Regulus Black didn't know what to do.

He was half asleep at breakfast - Barty, who was sitting to the right of him, kept having to nudge him to keep him awake. Carson and Gillian were sitting across the table, whispering to one another about something that they obviously didn't want the other two boys to know about.

"Regulus, are you alright?" Gillian asked, noticing the tired state of the boy across from her.

Regulus looked up at her through drooping eyelids, and gave her a fatigued smile. "Spiffing," he murmured, and he buried his face back into his folded arms.

"You look tired. How late were you up last night?" She had noticed the dark bags that had found a home beneath his eyes.

Regulus grunted something in response, but none of the other three could make out exactly what he had said.

Carson, Gillian, and Barty all looked at one another. "Yeah, you weren't in the common room when we got back," Carson stated.

"And you weren't in the dorm room when I woke up and walked up there at midnight," Barty added.

Regulus lifted his face from his hands again, propping up his right elbow and pressing his cheek into his palm. "I was out," Regulus said.

"Out where?" Barty asked.

Regulus shook his head, and he refolded his arms to bury his face into.

He slept all the way through History of Magic, didn't do much in Herbology, and dozed off once in Transfiguration. So, when the time came for Defense Against the Dark Arts, he was a bit more well rested. Which, in retrospect, was quite good, seeing as how everyone was given quite a shock when they entered the room.

Amiyah Cole was not in the classroom. Instead, standing in her place at the front of the classroom, were two young-looking wizards with red hair. They were whispering amongst one another, chuckling lowly as they made remarks about something that none of the other students could hear.

Barty and Regulus looked at one another in confusion, but walked to their desk without comment. They sat side by side, and the two young men looked at them with wide grins and bright eyes.

"Ah! Hello, you two! Let's see who you are..." the one to the left said, and both men looked at a piece of paper that they held between them.

"My guess is Anderson and... oh! Anderson and Stone!" the one to the right muttered to the one on the left.

"I'm guessing Black and Ackland," the one on the left said.

The two of them looked at one another, nodded their heads, shook hands, and looked back to Barty and Regulus. "Names?" They asked in unison.

"Barty Crouch Jr. and Regulus Black," Regulus said.

The man on the right let out a frustrated sigh, dug inside of his pocket, and handed a shiny galleon to the one on the left, who was staring at him with a wide grin. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in why don't you," he mumbled.

Four people entered the classroom, and their faces lit up. "Oh, four! Alright, let's see... I'm guessing... Travers, Burton, Ackland, and Anderson." The one on the right mumbled.

"Wright, Stone, Anderson, Ackland," the other one said with confidence.

"Names!" They shouted, in unison once again.

"Benjamin Stone, Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Lennox Wright," Francesco shouted back.

"Bugger!" The one on the right shouted.

The one on the left hit him on the arm. "Fabian! They're second years!"

"And?" The man who's name was now revealed to be Fabian said, and he dug into his pocket.

He handed two more galleons to the other one. "No, I got four right. Pay up, Fab."

"I got two right, which means that two of them cancel out. You're only getting two."

The other one rolled his eyes, and the last two people entered the classroom. "Ah! You much be Rosier and Travers?" He asked.

Evan Rosier sneered at the two young men, looking them up and down. "Who are _you_?"

"Patience!" They called in unison.

Once everyone had found their seats, the two young men began pacing in opposite directions across the front of the room.

"Hello, everyone! We're your new Professors!" The one named Fabian announced to the class.

Phoebe Scott's hand shot up into the air.

"Yes, Miss... Scott?" The other one asked, having to give the girl's name a second thought.

"Are you our new Professors permanently?" She asked, lowering her hand and crossing her arms on the desk in front of her.

"No, just temporarily. Amiyah - er - Professor Cole is busy with a case right now. So, Gideon and I offered to take over as your Professors for as long as she needs." Fabian said.

"Well said, Fabian. Oh, right, I guess we should do introductions. I'm Gideon Prewett-"

"-and I'm Fabian Prewett-"

"-and we're aurors, if you hadn't guessed yet-"

"-and we're also-"

"-twins." They finished in unison.

"Yeah, we couldn't tell," Evan Rosier muttered, rolling his eyes.

Gideon Prewett sent a glare his way. "Yeah, we couldn't tell," he mocked.

The class burst out into laughter. Evan Rosier grimaced at the two Professors, who were both laughing along with the rest of the class.

"Nice one, Gid!" Fabian said, slapping his brother on the back and keeling over with laughter.

Once the laughter had died down, Gideon and Fabian Prewett composed themselves and began speaking to the class once again. "Alright, so, since there's two of us, you can refer to us as Professors Prewett One-" Fabian said.

"-and Prewett Two." Gideon finished.

The class chuckled quietly to themselves. "Ok, lesson time!" Fabian chimed.

"Today we're going to be teaching you lot about the Homorphous Charm!" Gideon said.

"Alright, so, let's get into it. The Homorphous Charm is a spell that can temporarily cure lycanthropy." Piped up Fabian.

A gasp went up around the room, and the students began whispering amongst themselves. Regulus was staring at the Prewett twins with wide eyes - if they didn't have it already, they definitely had his full attention now.

"However," Gideon continued, "it is not a permanent cure. You lot won't learn about werewolves until next year, but I'm sure that, at least most of you, know enough about them to know that there is no permanent cure to lycanthropy."

"Well then, what does it do?" Benjamin Stone asked.

"The Homorphous Charm temporarily changes a transformed werewolf back to their human state." Fabian answered.

"The skill of the caster and strength of the spell determines how long the werewolf will be turned back." Gideon added.

Regulus raised his hand.

"Mr. Black?" Fabian asked.

"Why don't they just constantly cast it, then? You know, if there's a really skilled caster and everything, why don't they just cast the spell on the werewolf constantly so that they stay in their human form?" Regulus asked.

Gideon and Fabian both thought for a moment. "Excellent question, Mr. Black," Gideon said, and he began to pace in a short span of space. "I suppose it would just be much too tedious. I don't really know if anyone has ever tried it, honestly."

Regulus nodded his head. He wondered if his brother or his other two mates had ever tried the spell on Remus. _No_ , he thought, _that would be too dangerous. They couldn't be that close to Remus on the full moon. They would be dead if they ever had!_

"Alright, you lot, get out some parchment! We're taking notes!" Fabian said.

The final class of the day, and of the week, was Potions. Regulus wasn't really looking forward to it, especially considering that he had to sit at a table with the three Gryffindor boys. So, when he and Barty walked into the dark and cold classroom, Regulus kept his head down.

He sat down at the table without looking at any of the other three boys, even though he could feel all of their eyes on him. He dropped his bag on the ground and kept his eyes carefully trained on the table in front of him. He traced the grain of it, following the pattern from one end of the table to the other.

"Heya, Black," someone sneered from behind him.

Regulus let out an irritated sigh, closed his eyes, and the muscles in his back instinctually tensed. "What do you want, Rosier?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Just wondering where you were last night, Black? Not in the common room, not in the dorm room. Where were you?"

Regulus turned around in his seat and stared directly into the amused face of Evan Rosier. "Is it really your business where I was, Rosier?"

Evan looked him up and down. "Well, it was just a question, Black. No need to get all defensive. I'm just saying that it's a little odd that you were missing, isn't it? I mean, I stayed awake, and you didn't even come back until past two in the morning."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "It's a little weird that you noticed, isn't it, Rosier? What, are you starting a fan club for me?"

Evan Rosier's amused expression turned to one of anger. "Shut up, Black," he warned.

"Or what? Are you going to melt my skin off again?" Regulus leaned forward, and stared him directly in the eyes. "Go ahead. I dare you."

Evan Rosier leaned down, too, so the two boys were mere inches apart. "I can do a lot worse than melt your skin, Black," he snarled.

Regulus pursed his lips. "Sure you could, Rosier. Sure you could." He sat up straight again and turned back to the table, accidentally meeting eyes with Francesco Anderson, who had his eyes narrowed.

Regulus sent a glare his way, and then resorted to looking around the room instead of back at the table. He could still see Evan Rosier standing there from the corner of his eye, absolutely fuming.

"You can go now, Rosier," Regulus said.

"You know something, Black? Mordax is an awful bad hex. You would know all about that though, right? I hear your brother absolutely _loves_ it." Evan teased.

Regulus's right arm twitched, and he carefully avoided Evan's eyes. The three Gryffindors were looking between the two boys curiously.

"And I hear," Regulus began after a few moments of silence, "that your best mate loves it, too. Though, he doesn't like casting it on people, does he, Evan?"

Rosier scoffed. "Best mate?"

Regulus turned around so that they were looking at one another once again. "Yeah. Severus Snape, right? Or, and I could be wrong, are you only using Severus Snape to get leverage on me because you know about his... _abilities_."

Evan Rosier was silent, and Regulus took that as his answer. "Excellent. Now, since we both thoroughly understand each other, can you please leave? Unlike you, I would actually like to do good in school."

"Oh, what? Is being mummy and daddy's little dream heir not enough? Have to do good in school, too?"

Regulus scoffed. "Dream heir? Yeah, alright." He turned back to the table, and only realized then that he had made a mistake. He closed his eyes, and he could practically feel the excitement radiating off of Evan Rosier. Regulus had basically just admitted that he was doing something, or had done something, or was thinking of doing something that would disappoint his parents - that went against them.

"Hello, class! Welcome in!" Slughorn boomed from the front of the classroom, and Evan Rosier took that as his cue to leave.

But, just before he did, he leaned down so that he was whispering directly to Regulus. "I'll find out what you're up to, Black. Don't think I won't." And he retreated to his own table.

The four occupants of the table all turned to Slughorn, who was explaining that they would be taking - yet again - notes. When they turned to grab their note taking supplies, Regulus and Deacon met eyes. They looked at one another in silence for a few seconds, and Deacon gave him a small smile.

Regulus returned the gesture, though his smile was barely noticeable.

Deacon noticed, and his smile couldn't help but grow. He and Regulus Black had truly made progress. They were truly friends. _Acquaintances_. They were truly acquaintances.

Regulus didn't take notes that whole class. He was too deep in thought to even register that Slughorn was still speaking at all.

_I can't be friends with Deacon. Deacon's a mudblood! I can't be friends with a ruddy mudblood! Mother and father will have my head!_

_Mother and father don't have to know._

_They'll find out. Evan Rosier will tell them. Severus Snape will tell them. Hell, Sirius would probably even tell them if he got the chance. Anything to hurt me._

_But Deacon is nice._

_But Deacon is a mudblood._

_So?_

_So? SO?_ So _, I can't be friends with a mudblood! Mudbloods and muggles, they're disgusting! Disgraces! I can't be friends with him. No. I can't._

_But I can. He's nice. I can be friends with whoever I want to be friends with._

_How am I going to be friends with someone like Deacon and then work for the Dark Lord?_

_Personal vs. Professional._

_The Dark Lord is working against people like Deacon. I can't be friends with him and continue to work for the Dark Lord. I have to make a choice. Deacon or the Dark Lord?_

_No, I don't have to choose. I could-_

_Deacon or the Dark Lord?_

_I don't want to choose._

_Deacon or the Dark Lord?_

_I can't choose._

_Deacon. Or. The. Dark. Lord? I have to choose._

_I don't want to._

_I have to._

_I can't._

_Deacon or my family?_

_My family has nothing to do with this._

_If I don't choose the Dark Lord, mother and father will never forgive me. I'll be like Sirius to them. They'll disown me._

_Sirius is happy. He's been disowned, and he's happy._

_I'll have no one._

_I'll have someone._

_No. If I don't choose the Dark Lord, I'll have no one. I'll be alone._

_Why can't I just choose both. I just want to choose both._

_Be friends with a mudblood, or be what mother and father have always planned for me to be?_

_I don't want to disappoint mother and father._

_That's the answer, isn't it?_

Regulus leaned his head down on the table, pressing his forehead against the cold wood.

Deacon looked at him with a furrowed brow, wondering what the boy was thinking. Deacon had the sinking suspicion that, whatever it was, it had to do with him. He wanted to do something to help him feel better. So, he did the only thing that he could think of.

Regulus lifted his head from the desk just in time to see Deacon Ackland discreetly sliding a note to him. Regulus's eyes flickered to the other boys, who were both looking to Slughorn at that moment.

He scooped the note up from the table as quickly as he could, trying to be absolutely certain that neither of them would see it. He placed his hands on his lap, slowly unfolding it and flipping it over so that it was no longer upside down.

_Want to look at the stars tonight?_

Regulus glanced up at Deacon through his thick eyelashes, and then quickly looked back at the note. The same argument that he had been having with himself before replayed in his mind. He shut his eyes and let out an irritated sigh - he just wanted his thoughts to stop. He would give absolutely anything for his mind to just shut up and give him one moment of peace. Just one.

He shoved the note deep into his pocket, taking a deep breath and pushing the thought of it out of his mind.

Francesco Anderson watched Deacon sneak out of their dorm room that night at eleven. His brows knit together, and he waited a few moments to be sure that Deacon was gone before standing up and rushing over to Benji's bed.

"Benji," he whispered, shaking the other boy awake. Benji groaned and swatted his hand away. "Benji, wake up!"

"Go away," Benji mumbled, and he buried his face deeper into his pillows.

"No, Benji, it's important! Wake up!"

"Fran, if you don't leave me alone, I will hex you. Don't put it past me," Benji said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Hex me all you want, Benji, I'm not leaving you alone." Francesco plopped down into the bed beside Benji, pushing him over so that there was room for himself.

Benji let out a very irritated groan and rolled onto his back, fighting to keep his eyes open. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

Francesco was silent a moment.

"I think there's something wrong with Deacon," he finally said.

"Something wrong with Deacon? Like what?" Benji asked, his curiosity piqued. 

"I dunno. But, he's been sneaking out a lot, right? I mean, he just snuck out like five minutes ago."

Benji raised his head to look over Fran, and sure enough, Deacon's bed was empty. His head fell back down onto the pillow, and he thought for a moment.

"Well, where do you reckon he goes?"

Fran shrugged. "I asked him last night. He said he was looking at the stars."

Benji turned his head so that he was facing his best mate. "Looking at the stars?"

Fran nodded.

"Huh. Well, ok, so the kid likes stars. I don't know why that means there's something going on with him." Benji continued.

"But, haven't you noticed it?"

"Noticed what?"

"How odd he's been acting! I mean, did you see the way that he just stood up and left in the middle of dinner yesterday?"

Benji nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He was afraid that, if he dared open his mouth, Deacon's secret may accidentally come pouring out. So, he stayed silent.

"It's odd, right? And he's just been acting so down lately." Fran was silent, and Benji could see the silhouette of where Fran was now fiddling with his fingers, hands rested on his stomach. "He doesn't talk to me about things anymore." Fran mumbled, his voice laced with sadness.

Benji's brow creased with sympathy. "Fran, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you. Perhaps Dea is just feeling bad about his family or something. Have they been sending him letters recently?"

Fran shook his head. "No, he hasn't gotten any post."

"Well, whatever it is - and I'm sure it's nothing - it probably has nothing to do with you. Dea's just being a little distant is all. He'll be back to himself in no time."

"But... but what if he isn't? What if he doesn't like me anymore? What if he thinks I'm annoying and stuck up and stupid and he doesn't want to be friends anymore?" Fran's voice was sullen, and Benji could hear the genuine fear at the prospect of Fran losing one of his best mates.

"Fran, everything is fine. I can assure you, everything will be just fine. Deacon isn't ignoring you, he probably just has other things going on! Have you talked to him about this?"

Fran nodded his head. "Yeah, I asked him about it when he came back last night."

"And? What'd he say?"

"He said that it wasn't about me and that he wasn't mad at me or anything and that I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, see! There's your answer! You didn't do anything wrong, Fran. Deacon is just... I dunno. But whatever it is, it's not because of you. You're his best mate, for crying out loud!"

"I guess..." Fran murmured. "I just... Benji, I really don't want to lose him." His voice broke, and Benji's heart broke along with it.

"Fran..." Benji said, and he propped himself up on his elbow so that he was staring down into the sad face of his friend. "It's going to be ok. You aren't going to lose him."

"You don't know that," Fran said, and Benji could see a glint of moonlight in the tears that had escaped from his eyes.

Benji stared at his friend in sympathy. Why were both of his best friends so bloody sad? They didn't deserve it! Neither of them deserved to feel the way that they did. Once again, Benji just wanted to take all of the pain away from him. Fran didn't deserve it. Deacon didn't deserve it. Neither of them deserved it. And, what was even worse, Benji knew why Deacon was so sad. And, much to his dismay, it did have to do with Fran. It had everything to do with Fran.

"Do you think he hates me?" Fran asked, his voice shaky and weak.

"No." Benji said firmly.

Francesco's body shook with the sobs that he was holding back, and Benji watched as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together to keep them from trembling.

Benji sat up, grabbed Fran by the shoulders, and forced him to sit up, too. "Fran, hey, look at me. Deacon doesn't hate you. I can promise you, Deacon does not hate you." He held a firm grip on his shoulders, and he was staring directly into the sorrowful eyes of his friend.

"You don't know that," was Fran's response.

"But I do! Fran, I really, really do." Benji assured him.

Francesco couldn't hold it in anymore. He began to cry.

Benji, without hesitation, pulled Fran towards him and enveloped him into a tight hug. Francesco rested his head on Benji's shoulder, closed his eyes, and he let himself cry. Benji rested his head on top of Fran's, rocking the two boys back and forth. Benji had now held his two best mates - two of the people whom he loved most in the world - while they sobbed about one another.

And, what was worse, Benji didn't know what to do to fix it.

Regulus Black was laying awake in his bed, in a very different fashion to the two boys. However, he was thinking about the same thing: Deacon.

He was still completely unsure of what to do.

Although, he knew one thing for sure; looking at the stars with the boy the night before had calmed him down. It had made him feel normal, if only for a few hours. And he had the option to do it again. And he wanted to do it. But he knew that he shouldn't.

Regulus was so conflicted that he could practically feel his blood pressure rising.

Deacon Ackland laid on the pitch, staring at the stars above him. Even if Regulus Black decided not to show up, Deacon still enjoyed the silence. He enjoyed the darkness of the pitch. He enjoyed the stars twinkling above and the moonlight beaming down on the grass like a spotlight. He enjoyed being alone.

He just wished that he could be alone with someone else.

He heard the grass being ruffled and mussed up beside him, and he glanced to his left.

Regulus Black was staring directly up at the sky, an unreadable expression on his face.

Deacon smiled and turned his own head back to the blanket of stars above.

There was silence. A silence that filled the air. A silence that made both boys know the they weren't alone.

"It's ok." Deacon said.

Regulus was quiet. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the words sink in.

"It's ok." Regulus repeated, though he was saying it more to Deacon than he was to himself.

Deacon knew this.

Once again, a weight was lifted from their shoulders.

For, when Deacon Ackland and Regulus Black were alone on the pitch, staring at the starry night sky above, they were calm. They were weightless. They were free.


	40. The Army Has Risen

It was Saturday, 9 March.

Regulus entered the Great Hall for breakfast, expecting to see Sirius, James, and Peter in their usual, worried states; the full moon had been the night before.

However, what he found was completely different.

The entire Great Hall was practically silent. Everyone was passing around copies of the Daily Prophet. There were people crying from both sadness and fear, and there were others looking around at one another in pure shock and terror.

Regulus furrowed his brow, and he and Barty picked up their pace. When they reached their normal places at the table, it was to find Gillian and Carson already there.

"What happened? Why's everyone acting like this?" Regulus asked as he dropped down on the bench across from Gillian.

Carson slid his copy of the Daily Prophet across the table in an almost bored fashion. Regulus grabbed it and placed it down between he and Barty so that they could read it at the same time.

It was the front page.

_WEREWOLF ATTACKS ALL OVER LONDON!_

_Last night, a pack of werewolves ventured into London and killed hundreds (FOR A FULL LIST OF ATTACK VICTIMS, AS WELL AS PICTURES, TURN TO PAGE 9). They killed witches, wizards, and muggles alike, and turned some, too. From every family, they took one member to be their own, and gave them the awful condition that is lycanthropy._   
_The Minister issued a statement from her office this morning. "These attacks will not stand!" Says Eugenia Jenkins. "Werewolves are vicious creatures. They aren't friends, they aren't family. As soon as they are given the condition of lycanthropy, they're monsters. I urge all of you, contact the Ministry if you have any ideas about any of the whereabouts of the wolves. In this war, it is unlikely that any of them will be fighting for the right side. As for the attack itself, I can assure you, it will not happen again. I will be absolutely sure of it. These wolves will not get away with this twice."_   
_With the Minister's statement came many questions. How is the Ministry going to stop another attack? What will the Ministry do with the wolves that they catch? Who is leading the pack?_   
_However, the main question is still posed: why is there a werewolf pack trying to gather more members?_

Regulus passed the paper back across the table, and he glanced around Great Hall. The somber mood suddenly made quite a lot of sense. He glanced down the table, looking for any of the other students who were at the meeting over Christmas. For, Regulus had a sinking suspicion that that is what the Dark Lord had talked to them about when they kicked the kids out of the room.

He leaned forward so that he was speaking directly to Carson and Gillian. "You think it was... him?" He asked.

Carson and Gillian both nodded their heads without a second thought. "Well, yeah. Who else would it be? My bet's on Greyback." Carson replied.

"Greyback?" Regulus asked.

His three friends gave him a strange look. "You don't know who Greyback is?" Gillian asked.

Regulus shook his head.

"Merlin, Reg, even I know who he is!" Barty said. "What, did your parents just never talk about him? He's a known supporter of the Dark Lord."

Regulus shrugged. "My parents didn't really talk to me much as a kid. I s'pose they never thought it important that I know who he is."

"Well," Gillian began, "Greyback is a werewolf, as I'm sure you were able to deduce on your own. He's been working for the Dark Lord since the very beginning. I dunno exactly how they met, but they've known each other for a while. Anyways, he has a pack. And, as far as we can tell, he's making it larger."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "Why would he want to turn muggles into werewolves though? I mean, they can't use magic, can they? What's the point?"

"Well, they don't need to use magic to be vicious wolves, do they? It makes sense. If they turned all the wizards into werewolves, who would fight alongside them? Sure, wolves are dead useful, but we can't have just wolves fighting against wizards. They'd lose for sure." Carson added.

"I guess that makes sense..." Regulus mumbled, and his eyes flickered to his brother.

Sirius looked like he was absolutely fuming. He narrowed his eyes, and then he remembered the words of the Minister in the article.

_They aren't friends, they aren't family. As soon as they are given the condition of lycanthropy, they're monsters._

He thought that he knew exactly what sort of thoughts were going through Sirius's mind in that moment.

Regulus's concentration was broken when he felt the all-too familiar feeling of Severus Snape trying to read his mind. He shot a pointed glare at him, and he knew that it was his cue to leave.

In truth, ever since Christmas, Regulus had actually become rather exceptional at Occlumency. At least, he was good enough at it to completely stop Severus Snape from being able to break into his thoughts. Which, in his book, was an absolute win.

Regulus finished eating his breakfast rather quickly after that, wanting to leave as soon as possible. When he was finished, he said goodbye to his friends, and walked out of the Great Hall.

It was only while he was halfway through the second corridor of the dungeons that someone interrupted his concentration.

"What do you know?" They snapped.

Regulus stopped dead in his tracks and let out a frustrated sigh before slowly turning around. "What do you want, Sirius?" He asked, trying to remain composed.

"What do you know about what happened yesterday?" Sirius demanded.

Regulus threw his hands up in front of himself. "Nothing. Calm down." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

Sirius scoffed. "Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that, you little prat."

"You don't have to. I don't care what you think about me, you git." Regulus said.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "So, you expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with it? That you didn't know anything about it?"

"Considering that I don't, yes, that is what I would expect you to believe. But, considering that you're about the stupidest person that I've ever met, I don't think that you would truly believe that."

"Yeah, says the stupidest person that _I've_ ever met!"

Regulus rolled his eyes again, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Very original. I can see why you have so many friends." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Sirius groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Can you please just stop being the most insufferable twit in the entire world for two bloody seconds?" Sirius shot at him.

"I will if you will," Regulus shot back.

They were quiet, glaring at one another. Finally, Sirius broke the silence.

"Why haven't you told anyone?"

Regulus tilted his head, but he kept his expression as hard and mean as possible. "Told anyone what?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Regulus didn't know what he was talking about. Sirius sighed. "Remus."

Understanding dawned on Regulus. He was silent a moment, and he let out a low sigh.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No. I don't know." Regulus didn't know what had brought on the sudden honesty, but it had come nonetheless.

In truth, Regulus still wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't told anyone. He didn't know why he hadn't told anyone about Remus, he wasn't sure why he hadn't told anyone about Deacon, he wasn't sure why he hadn't told anyone about Sirius and his little Animagus mission. Regulus was completely dumbfounded by his sudden will to keep secrets, especially considering that he could use any of them at any given moment in time to gain leverage with the Dark Lord.

"So... you haven't? Told anyone, I mean?" Sirius asked. Regulus could hear his voice softening as the conversation continued.

Regulus shook his head. "There's a lot of things I'm not telling people, Sirius." He said.

Sirius was still a moment. "Like what?"

_I'm basically working for the Dark Lord. I'm being civil with a mudblood. Remus Lupin is a werewolf. Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew want to become Animagi. I have doubts about the Dark Lord. Gillian Fairman and Carson Nott are in love. The Dark Lord is planning on attacking the school at some point or other in time. Severus Snape can read minds._

"Nothing."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Nope." Regulus responded.

He rolled his eyes, his voice going back to the cold one that he often had now when speaking to his little brother. "Yeah, alright. Just say you're a mini Death Eater and get over it."

"I'm not." Regulus said.

"Whatever you say."

They stared at one another. "Is that all?"

"What?"

"Is that all? Or are you going to keep bothering me like an idiot?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Whatever. Just go talk to your stupid little Dark Lord."

Regulus rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to go talk to the Dark Lord, moron."

"Oh, really? Huh. Are you lot having a tea party, then?"

Regulus let out an irritated sigh and spun around, continuing down the dingy corridor without another word to his older brother.

That night, Regulus sat down at the table in the Great Hall with a vexed sigh. Gillian and Carson both looked at him with curious expressions, and Barty gingerly sat next to him.

"It's so stupid!" He finally exclaimed, and he buried his face into his folded arms.

"What is?" Gillian asked, though she was looking at Barty.

Barty nodded his head down the table, signaling for Carson and Gillian to look. When they did, they saw a triumphant smirk on Evan Rosier's face. Gillian rolled her eyes, and Carson narrowed his.

"What did the little arsehole do?" Carson asked.

"He ruddy existed!" Regulus groaned, his voice muffled by his arms.

Barty leaned closer to Gillian and Carson. "He's just being bloody unbearable. He keeps trying to push Regulus. I swear, Regulus will take a breath and Evan Rosier will find someway to bring it back around to... Sirius."

Gillian and Carson both got a similar expression of confusion and distaste on their faces. "Sirius? As in his stupid, blood traitor, Gryffindor, intolerable brother? Or... oh! Or the star?" Carson asked.

"Why would Regulus get upset about a star?" Gillian asked, looking pointedly at Carson.

Carson shrugged. "I dunno. Why would Regulus get upset about his brother?"

She gave him a look of understanding. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She turned back to Barty. "So? Why is he upset about Sirius?"

"I'm not upset about Sirius!" Regulus yelled into his arms. "I hate Sirius!"

"Yeah, we know you do, Reg," Barty said, but he was still looking at Carson and Gillian. "That's the point. Reg hates his brother. So, whenever Evan Rosier brings him up-"

"He gets upset because he hates him." Carson finished in understanding.

Barty nodded. "Exactly."

Gillian thought a moment, before a small smirk lifted the corner of her lips. Carson looked at her, and his face broke into a wide grin. "Oh, I know that smirk. She's planning something."

"Not planning," she said, and she stood up from the table. "Hey, Rosier!"

Evan Rosier looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

She smiled at him, tilting her head. "To give you detention."

He grimaced at her. "What? I didn't even do anything!"

Gillian shrugged. "You're rather unbearable, I think that's reason enough."

"I'll report you to Slughorn!"

"Go ahead. Not like he'll do anything."

"Yeah, and not like I'll actually show up to my detention."

"Then I'll just give you more, Rosier. You don't have many options here."

"This is an abuse of power!"

"And?"

He sneered at her, and turned back to his dinner without further comment. Gillian sat back down, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Ha! Nice one, Gill!" Carson said, and he gave her a high five.

Regulus looked up from the table and gave her a grateful smile. "You really can't do that, can you?" He asked.

Gillian waved a dismissive hand. "What's the worst that'll happen? I'll get my Prefect badge taken? Be my guest. Not like I'm getting Head Girl anyways."

Carson pointed at her. "That's a fair point."

Regulus chuckled, and he glanced past his two friends towards the Gryffindor table. Francesco, Benjamin, and Deacon were all deep in conversation, and Regulus could see what looked like a copy of the Daily Prophet from that very morning between them on the table. A lot had happened with the three Gryffindor boys since Valentine's Day.

Francesco had broken up with Lennox. It was two days after Valentine's Day, and the day that he had cried to Benji for nearly two hours. When he awoke the next morning, it was to find that he just... well, he didn't know why, but he didn't necessarily have any romantic feelings towards her anymore. In fact, and it made him feel awful to say, he truly didn't know if he had had any in the first place. Of course, Lennox was a lovely girl. But he just didn't feel that way about her anymore, if at all.

She took it pretty well, considering. In fact, it seemed as though she were expecting it. They were still on good terms, though she and the other girls had definitely distanced themselves from the boys more than they had before.

Aside from breaking up with Lennox, however, he was well. Deacon had stopped being so odd, and it truly seemed that the three boys were back to how they had been. He hadn't cried to Benji since that night, at any rate, so at least there was that.

Benji was just glad that things were back to normal. Neither of his best mates had cried to him in almost a month, and he was over the moon about it. Both of them seemed happy. Well, they seemed ok at the very least. However, he knew that Deacon's feelings hadn't dimmed in the slightest, and he also knew that Francesco was starting to catch onto the fact that something was up. He was just hoping that Francesco didn't keep investigating, and that he wouldn't put two and two together.

Deacon was doing well. He was truly doing well. Fran wasn't dating Lennox anymore, and the three boys were back to being close again. Though, he was still keeping a secret from them. The both of them. He was still spending time with Regulus Black.

Yes, to unknowing eyes, absolutely nothing had changed in the dynamic between the two boys. Because, when they were around other people, that's exactly how it was. Nothing had changed. They still didn't like one another and wanted to avoid each other's presence at all costs. They didn't talk to each other, they barely even looked at each other.

However, multiple times over the past few weeks, he and Regulus had spent hours upon hours with one another. Though, they didn't speak. They rarely _ever_ spoke. They would just lay on the pitch in silence, staring at the blanket of stars that covered them from above. It was freeing.

So, yes, they barely knew anything more about one another than they had started out knowing, but at least they were spending time together. Deacon knew that, because they never talked, Regulus was probably only continuing because then he could convince himself that he wasn't going against what he had grown up believing. Which, Regulus had to admit, was the exact reason. When he was alone in the silence of the pitch with Deacon Ackland, he was able to convince himself that it was ok. This was solely because, as Deacon thought, they never spoke. Regulus was able to tell himself that it didn't matter. It was ok. It was all ok.

"Hey, where's Professor Cole?" Barty asked, glancing up at the teachers table and noticing the absence of their Defense teacher.

Regulus's concentration was broken away from the Gryffindor's, and he looked up towards the horizontal table at the front. Sure enough, the seat between Professor's Itri and Flitwick was empty. He furrowed his brow.

"Dunno. I guess she could be gone because of what was in the paper this morning?" Regulus suggested.

"Yeah, probably. Hey, you don't reckon we're gonna get those twins for Defense on Monday?"

Regulus shrugged. "Possibly. Or another auror, maybe."

"She could get back by then," Gillian said.

"I hope she doesn't. Don't get me wrong, she's alright at teaching, but she's so bloody annoying. She just goes on and on and on about how she's an auror and she's encountered so many crazy things. You know, she went as far as to say that she remembered most of our parents "from work" on the first day. It was ridiculous." Carson said, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, she talked about my family, too," Regulus added.

"I dunno, I think that there's definitely something suspicious about her." Carson said.

"Suspicious?" Gillian asked, and she turned to him.

"Yeah. Like they said at the... you know... the meeting before holiday, I think that she's not here only to be the Defense Professor. She's an auror, so my bet is that Dumbledore decided to hire her so that he could get more of the Magical Law Enforcement on his side."

"They're all on his side already, aren't they?" Regulus asked. "I mean, they're fighting a common enemy, right?"

"No, they're not all working for him." Barty began, turning to face Regulus. "My dad isn't working for Dumbledore, and he's Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Just because they're all fighting the same person, it doesn't mean they're working together."

"Yeah, which is great for us," Gillian said, and she took a bite of her dinner.

"How?" Barty and Regulus asked at the same time.

"Well, yeah. They're fighting a common enemy - the Dark Lord - but they're doing it separately. They don't tell each other what they know, they don't work together, they're doing everything apart. In fact, my bet is that if they ever found themselves in a battle with the Dark Lord, they would start fighting each other as well."

Regulus and Barty nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"You know, I'd bet that if they just worked together, they could probably win, too. But they're too daft to realize that they're doing worse working apart than they would do working together." Carson added.

Gillian nodded her head. "Yeah, probably would."

It was Saturday, 16 March.

The last Quidditch match, which was being played between Slytherin and Hufflepuff, was taking place in exactly one week. Regulus was a ball of nervous energy, seeing as how it was his last game of the year. Also, seeing as how he had only played one of the two games so far, he was just excited to be able to play the last one. This was also Carson's last game of his entire time at Hogwarts, so Regulus was determined to catch the Snitch and win for him.

The four friends entered the Great Hall with one another for breakfast, and they found it in a very similar state to the Saturday before. Everyone was whispering amongst one another, and the occupants were radiating with fear and worry. Carson, Gillian, Barty, and Regulus all looked at each other in confusion, and then rushed to the table.

"Borrowing this!" Carson shouted as he rushed past a boy named Alexander Ryan and snatched the Daily Prophet right out of his hands.

The four of them sat down in their usual spot, spread the Daily Prophet out between them, and began to read.

_YOU KNOW WHO CONFIRMS SUSPICIONS WITH A PUBLIC DISPLAY!_

_Late last night, He Who Must Not Be Named made a very public, and very graphic, display._   
_Muggles, witches, and wizards alike awoke this morning to find the bodies of several people whom the Ministry assumed to be dead on display. Each and every victim of these displays were assumed to be either dead or taken by werewolves during the attacks that occurred during the full moon last Friday._   
_Forty two bodies have been recovered (FOR A FULL LIST OF THE NAMES OF THESE VICTIMS, ALONG WITH THEIR PICTURES, TURN TO PAGE 13), all of which had been strategically placed on 10 Downing Street, in Diagon Alley, in Hogsmeade, and even in Godric's Hollow. Half of the bodies had been brutally mutilated using some of the darkest magic imaginable, and the other half had been malled by wolves. To add to the grotesque and vile state that the bodies were found in, they had all been placed in very specific ways; they spelled out four different words._   
_10 Downing Street spelled out "THE". Diagon Alley spelled "ARMY". Hogsmeade spelled "HAS". And Godric's Hollow spelled "RISEN". You Know Who has taken to using violent and mangled ways to reveal his true intentions for the werewolf attacks. He Who Must Not Be Named is building an army._   
_Witches and wizards all over the country are terrified. How did You Know Who get in and out of these locations? How did he get so close to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without raising alarms? If he could do that, what's stopping him from entering the school, no questions asked?_   
_The Minister released a statement from her office earlier this very morning. "The so called "Dark Lord" has taken it many steps too far. This man, this evil, vile, excuse of a man, has resorted to mutilation of innocent people and defacement of public property. It won't stand. So, [REDACTED] (Eugenia Jenkins has opted to use the true name of You Know Who, but the editors of the Daily Prophet have made the executive decision to censor it), I am speaking directly to you. We will catch you. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but we will catch you, and we will have a Dementor ready to kiss you on sight."_   
_Witches and wizards across the country are beginning to question the Minister. She has given practically the same speech countless times, and still nothing has been done. Is the Minister only sending empty threats, but taking no actions? It surely seems that way. Countless members of the wizarding community have started to demand an election. They want to get Eugenia Jenkins out, and someone new in. Someone who will actually do something about You Know Who and his outlandish methods._

The four of them looked at one another, dropping back down onto the bench. Gillian, Carson, and Barty began eating their breakfast as though nothing had happened. Regulus felt like he was going to be sick.

He couldn't imagine the state that those bodies had been found in. He didn't want to imagine it. It was vile. It was awful. And it made Regulus want to throw up. However, he couldn't show a reaction. So, he glanced around the room, taking in everyone's reactions.

Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James looked sick to their stomachs - Remus most of all; he looked rather green 'round the gills. Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary Macdonald were looking amongst each other in disgust. Lennox Wright, Lottie Burton, and Natalia Byrne - a first year - looked disturbed. Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone were all whispering amongst each other, looking anxious and panicked.

Regulus sighed and, just as he was about to begin piling breakfast onto his plate, the silence of the hall was shattered. A Ravenclaw girl screamed at the top of her lungs, and everyone turned to look at her in annoyance, concern, and indifference.

Dumbledore and Flitwick both stood from the staff table, rushing towards the girl who was now sobbing on the ground of the hall.

"Miss Butler, whatever is the matter?" Dumbledore asked as he and Flitwick reached her.

"Her father and brother were two of the bodies found," the girl next to her whispered. It was obvious that she was trying to be quiet, but the room had been so silent that her voice carried throughout and reached every single pair of ears.

The silence turned to a ringing one. It didn't even sound like there were people breathing. Barty and Regulus looked at one another, and then back to the scene before them.

Flitwick and Dumbledore led the crying girl out of the Great Hall, followed by a few of her closest friends.

"Well, that was an interesting start to the day, I guess," Carson murmured, and he started eating his breakfast again.

"Yeah, you can say that again," Gillian mumbled.

It was Friday, 22 March.

Regulus was so nervous about the match the following day that he was afraid he might rupture a vital organ.

He was in Potions, mixing the Strengthening Solution that Slughorn was having them brew that day. He was bouncing his leg anxiously, tapping the table with the fingers of his free hand, and his hands were shaking ever-so-slightly.

Deacon kept stealing glances at him, noticing the nervous state that he was in. He glanced up at Benji and Fran, who were both chattering away happily with one another about a shop in Diagon Alley that Deacon had never been to. Deacon discreetly shifted a little to his right so that he was closer to Regulus.

"Nervous about the match?" He asked.

Regulus looked at him, putting down his spoon because he had finished with his mixing. He nodded his head, and then began chopping up his next ingredient. Deacon, who was still at the stage of his potion just before where Regulus was at, meaning that he had to let it sit, quickly scribbled down a note and passed it to him.

Regulus glanced at it, quickly scooped it up and put in his pocket, and then continued with his potion.

Regulus, as usual, was one of the first ones to finish. He cleaned up his station, and Slughorn dismissed him with a jovial comment about how excellent his potion looked and a pat on the back. When Regulus was out of the classroom and headed towards his dorm, he took out the slip of paper and unfolded it.

_We can practice out on the pitch if you'd like. It might be fun._

Regulus sighed and paused in the hall, just a few turns away from the classroom. He wanted to go, he really did. Not only would he get the calming effect of being under the stars, but he would also get the extra practice in before the match. On the other hand, though, practicing Quidditch seemed a lot more talkative than just laying in the grass. And he didn't necessarily know how to explain it away to himself - how to make himself think that it would be excusable.

_I'll be practicing for the match. It'll help me build my skills, and I'll catch the Snitch tomorrow for sure. It'll be beneficial for the Slytherins. Yes, it'll be beneficial for the whole of Slytherin house._

He scribbled down a quick note, and walked back to the room.

"Ah, Mr. Black! Forget something, did you?" Slughorn called when he reentered the room.

He nodded his head, and hurried towards his seat. Carefully, he dropped something on the ground, reached down to pick that same thing up, and slid the note towards Deacon.

"Goodbye, Professor," Regulus called as he was leaving the room.

"Have a good day!" Slughorn called back, a wide grin on his face and thumbs hooked beneath his suspenders.

Regulus Black grabbed his broom, snuck out of his dorm room, and left the common room without a single interruption. The weather outside was nice. It had started to get warmer over the past few weeks, and it felt great. There was a cool breeze hitting Regulus's face, ruffling his hair, breaking into the bubble of warm air that he was engulfed in.

When he reached the pitch, it was to find that Deacon Ackland was already chasing after the Snitch. He saw Regulus enter, expertly grabbed the Snitch from the air, and lowered himself to the ground.

"Hullo," he said, grinning at the boy. 

"Hey," Regulus responded, giving him a tight lipped smile.

They stared at one another for a few brief moments in silence. Regulus pointed to the Snitch that was trying to escape Deacon's hand.

"Are we going to start?" He asked.

"Oh, right." Deacon let go of the small ball, and both boys watched it zip away and disappear into the darkness of the night. "Last one to catch it is a rotten egg," Deacon challenged, mounting his broom.

Regulus couldn't keep the smirk that quirked the corner of his mouth. "You're on."


	41. April Fools. Love, The Marauders

Slytherin won the match against Hufflepuff.

The entire house was absolutely ecstatic. Regulus had caught the Snitch within the first twenty minutes of the match, and Slytherin won by 180 points. The entire team was congratulating Regulus, saying how excellent he had done at catching the Snitch.

Above all, Carson Nott was absolutely swelling with pride at the prospect that, his last year at Hogwarts, they had won two of the three matches. It would've been wonderful to win all three, but considering that Regulus wasn't allowed to play for one of them, it made sense that they didn't. Carson kept calling Regulus the best Seeker that he had seen in his seven years at Hogwarts, and that statement included comparing Regulus to four others.

Other than that Quidditch match, nothing was happening around the castle. The end of term was approaching, so the fifth and seventh years were practically rupturing arteries left and right from stress. The other students were all much more lax about the exams, and were spending most of their time wandering 'round the castle.

April fools day fell on a Monday that year, and the entire castle was abuzz with activity. Peeves the Poltergeist was zipping this way and that around the school, causing messes and pulling pranks. Though, Peeves's little practical jokes were nothing compared to what the marauders had come up with.

Everyone in the castle awoke that morning, not knowing what to expect from the four third year Gryffindors. As far as they could tell, though, nothing was wrong. They walked to breakfast, the biggest disturbance being miniature pranks by other students, and Peeves's practical jokes.

Barty and Regulus had walked to the Great Hall alone that day, seeing as how neither Carson or Gillian seemed to be awake yet. The hall was buzzing with joy and laughter, all people making jokes to one another or else pulling small pranks. They sat down in their normal spot, and began to eat their breakfast as normal.

It was only when Gillian came storming into the room that Regulus had his first bit of laughter for that day. He practically spit out his drink, spluttering and coughing on the liquid that had been forced down his throat as well. Regulus and Barty burst out into laughter, and Carson joined in, walking very closely behind her.

"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Carson exclaimed, hooting with laughter as he dropped down on the bench.

"THIS IS NOT BRILLIANT!" Gillian shouted as she pointed to her hair, which had become a bright shade of blue.

"Did you do that?" Barty asked, looking to Carson, who couldn't stop laughing.

Carson nodded his head and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.

"How?" Regulus asked.

Gillian's face was twisted in distaste, and she was glaring at Carson with unmatched intensity. "Oh, calm down, Gill!" Carson shouted, and he patted her on the back. "I just cast a little silent spell on her that she doesn't know how to reverse."

"CARSON, IF YOU DON'T REVERSE THIS SPELL, I SWEAR TO MERLIN I WILL... I'LL... Merlin, just reverse it," Gillian groaned, and she rested her forehead against the table.

"Don't like the blue?" Carson asked. He sighed, and he pulled his wand from the pocket of his robes. "Fine. Anything for you, Gill."

He pointed his wand at the back of her head, moved it in the motion for a spell, and then Gillian's hair faded away from the blue. Regulus and Barty both widened their eyes, and all three boys began choking on the laughter that they were trying to suppress. "Alright, Gill, all done," Carson said, his face turning red from the suppressed laughter.

Gillian lifted her head from the table, ran her fingers through her hair, and brought a chunk of it in front of her face. Her jaw dropped, and her face contorted with anger.

"CARSON, THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!" She shouted.

"What? You just said you didn't like the blue!" He said, and his lips trembled with the effort of holding in his hysterics.

"WELL, I DON'T LIKE THIS, EITHER!" She roared, and she held up a strand of her now lime-green hair for emphasis.

"Oh come on, Gill! You look fantastic!" Carson said.

Gillian narrowed her eyes, and she drew her wand from the pocket of her robes. "Change my hair back, or I swear, Nott, I'll hex you with everything that I have." She threatened.

Carson looked in amusement between her face and the tip of her wand. "You wouldn't," he said dismissively, and he turned back to his breakfast.

Regulus and Barty looked between their two friends. "Hey, uh, I don't think she's kidding," Regulus said, but his voice was laced with hilarity.

Carson looked up, turned so he was looking directly into Gillian's eyes, and Regulus could've sworn that he saw a glint. Carson saw the sincerity on her face, and he smirked at her. "Go ahead, Gill. Go on." He said, and he gestured towards her wand.

"Turn. It. Back." Gillian demanded.

"Can't you just use Finite Incantatum?" Barty asked.

Gillian sighed. "I've already tried that! It didn't work!"

"Come on, you think I'd make it that easy? Who do you think I am?" Carson asked, feigning insult.

Gillian let out a frustrated groan, and she rounded on Carson again. "Carson, please turn my hair back to normal. I don't know about you, but I don't necessarily want to walk around the school with _neon green hair_."

Carson rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "Fine, fine. If you don't want to have a good day." He raised his wand and lazily cast the counter-spell.

Gillian grabbed a lock of her hair and looked at it, sighing in relief at the sight of her normal, light blonde hair. "Thank you," she said.

"Yeah, yeah." Carson waved a dismissive hand and stood from the table. "I gotta go talk to Slughorn about N.E.W.T.'s. I'll see you lot at lunch," he bid them adieu, and started towards the doors of the Great Hall.

Gillian turned back to her breakfast, and therefore didn't notice when Carson pointed his wand at her and muttered an incantation. Gillian jumped back in shock as her hair faded to a shade of bubblegum pink. She rounded on Carson, who was chuckling in the doorway.

"CARSON!" She roared, and she stood from the table, running after him.

Regulus and Barty laughed as Carson took off sprinting, Gillian running after him, her bubblegum pink hair flowing behind her.

At lunch, Gillian's hair was back to normal, and she was keeping a careful eye trained on Carson. In Defense, which took place directly after lunch, Regulus and Barty sat in their normal seats without a second glance to the person in front of the room.

"Names?" A deep voice called.

Regulus and Barty both looked up in surprise, and their eyes landed upon a tall, dark skinned wizard with a shaved head and a golden hoop earring. Barty and Regulus looked at one another.

"Uh, Barty Crouch Jr. and Regulus Black." Regulus replied.

The wizard at the front of the room nodded his head, and he checked two names off of a list. "I thought I recognized you two," he mumbled. He looked up just as two more people came into the room. "Names?" He called.

"Lennox Wright and Lottie Burton," a girl called back.

The wizard nodded his head, checked off two more names, and placed the list back on the desk. "Well, that's all of you. Hello, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, and I'll be taking over for Amiyah for the time being."

Lottie Burton raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Burton?" Kingsley asked.

"Why didn't she just send the Prewett twins back?" Lottie asked.

"Gideon and Fabian are working on the same case, so they were unavailable for teaching." Kingsley replied.

"Why aren't you on the same case?" Lennox asked.

"I am currently on a different case, a much less important one. So, I was assigned the task of teaching all of you for as long as Amiyah needs, seeing as how I can do my case from the school."

"What's the case?" Benjamin Stone asked.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow and gave Benjamin an amused smile. "You of all people should know that that is classified information, Mr. Stone." Kingsley said.

Regulus furrowed his brow and looked to Barty, who looked equally as confused. Francesco turned around in his seat, giving him the same look, along with Deacon who was looking to him from the side. "You of all people?" Francesco asked.

Benjamin turned red. "Uh, yeah. My parents work in the Ministry."

Kingsley gave him an odd look. "They don't just work in the Ministry, Mr. Stone. They're both very important."

Benjamin nodded his head. "Yeah, I know," he muttered.

"What do they do?" Deacon asked.

"My mum is the Head of the Magical Liaisons office, and my dad is Head of the Wizengamot." Benji said.

"I thought Dumbledore was Head of the Wizengamot?" Lennox asked him.

Benji shook his head. "Dumbledore is Chief Warlock. My dad is the one who schedules trials, proposes rulings, proposes laws, communicates with the high courts of other wizarding communities - which is dead useful, seeing as how my mum is Head of Magical Liaisons - that sort of thing."

His two friends gave him odd looks. "Why didn't you tell us?" Francesco asked.

Everyone else in the class was looking at one another awkwardly. "I just - uh - I don't know, it just didn't seem that important." Benji shrugged.

Deacon and Francesco looked at him for a few brief moments, but they ceded. Turning back to the front, Kingsley took that as his cue to start talking again. "So, as I was saying, I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for as long as Amiyah needs. You can call me Professor Shacklebolt. Anymore questions?"

Phoebe Scott raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Scott?"

"They're helping prevent another werewolf attack, aren't they?" She asked, lowering her hands to the desk in front of her.

Everyone in the room went quiet. "I cannot say." Professor Shacklebolt replied. "Now, let's get into the lesson, shall we?"

It was during dinner that night.

Carson and Gillian were sitting across the table, talking to one another. Barty and Regulus were eating in silence, looking around the room. The entire Great Hall was full of tense and stressed out students, who were all looking around cautiously. It was already seven at night, and the marauders hadn't done anything. They all hoped that, maybe, they had just taken a year off from their big April Fools prank. However, they all knew that it was very unlikely.

And then, it happened.

There was a very quiet, very distant sort of hissing sound. Regulus and Barty, along with several others, heard the noise and began looking around in confusion.

"Where's that coming from?" Regulus asked, looking every which way.

"I dunno..." Barty said, looking around just as curiously.

The hissing stopped, and there was silence. Conversations continued, but those who had heard it were looking cautiously at the room surrounding them. There was a loud _BANG!_ , and colorful sparks began raining from the sky above the Ravenclaw table.

The room was silent. Everyone looked at the firework sparks above, completely awestruck. There was another hissing, and another loud bang, this time above the Gryffindor table. The Hufflepuff table. The Slytherin table. The Hufflepuff table again. The teachers table. The Ravenclaw table again. The Slytherin table again. Students didn't know how to react. There were fireworks flying every which way.

The teachers were standing from the table at the front, looking around in confusion and shock.

There was a distant sound of laughing, and then, in came the marauders. Several jaws dropped at the sight of them all, considering that half of them were flying in on brooms, and the other half were setting off firework after firework, creating a whole display in the hall.

James and Sirius were zipping this way and that, laughing uproariously as they fired spell after spell at the banners around the room, changing them to display several different funny photos of the marauders themselves. Remus and Peter were lighting fireworks with their wands, sending them off all around the hall.

"MR. POTTER, MR. BLACK, GET DOWN! THERE WILL BE NO FLYING IN THE GREAT HALL!" McGonagall shouted, standing from the table and following the two boys with her eyes. Her gaze darted to the other two boys, and Regulus could see her cheeks burning red. "MR. LUPIN, MR. PETTIGREW, STOP SETTING OFF THOSE FIREWORKS!"

"SORRY PROFESSOR!" Peter called back, though there was an air of laughter in his voice, and he and Remus didn't stop with the fireworks.

Professors Flitwick and Shacklebolt stood from the table, and they began casting counter-spells to reverse the spells on the banners. Though, Regulus could see that they were both chuckling to themselves as they did so.

Remus and Peter ran out of fireworks, and they signaled to James and Sirius. Before they darted out of the room, Sirius and James conjured a banner to hang just above the teachers table that read, _APRIL FOOLS. LOVE, THE MARAUDERS_.

James and Sirius zipped out of the room, just over the heads of Peter and Remus, and the doors to the Great Hall shut behind them. There was a sizzling sound lingering in the air from the countless amount of fireworks that had been set off, and everyone was looking around at one another in silence.

Suddenly, the Great Hall broke into laughter. Even the Slytherins were laughing.

The first person to leave the Great Hall after dinner that night experienced the second part of the marauders's April Fools prank. As soon as they left the hall, they fell into a pool of what appeared to be several different substances and materials combined, making the pool itself quite thick and sticky.

"What the fuck?!" They exclaimed, looking at the waist-deep hole that they had found themselves in.

"MISS SUTTON!" McGonagall reprimanded the seventh year Gryffindor girl for the language that she had used.

"Sorry Professor!" She called back, and she tried to wade her way through the thick substance, but to know avail. "Uh, Professor, I think I'm in a bit of a... _sticky_ situation." Sutton yelled.

Several students glanced towards her, and they all burst into laughter when they finally understood the pun that the girl had made. McGonagall let out a cry of exasperation when she got close enough to see what was wrong, and she called Dumbledore over to her. Dumbledore, Flitwick, Shacklebolt, McGonagall, and Slughorn all worked for hours.

During this time, all of the students were stuck in the hall. There wasn't a way to get over the small pool without getting into it, and none of the students necessarily wanted to wade through it, so they were all stuck. The teachers used several complicated incantations to clear off and completely remove the long four tables from the hall.

Some students were napping, some were doing homework that they had brought to dinner by chance, but most were lazing about the ground with their friends. Barty was laying back, propped up on his elbows, while Regulus was laying on the ground with his hands behind his head beside him. Across from them, Carson and Gillian were both sitting cross legged.

The four friends were in the middle of an improvised game of charades when Dumbledore began to speak at the front of the room.

"Hello, everyone!" The headmaster shouted, looking around at all of the students in the room. "As I'm sure you all know, we are having a bit of an issue getting rid of the... problem. We do not know exactly what our local marauders have used, but it is several advanced bits of magic mixed together. I must congratulate them, this does require quite a bit of skill. However, because there are so many incantations mixed together, all with different counter-spells, we are having quite a bit of trouble discovering just which one works.

"For this reason, we greatly apologize for the inconvenience, but we cannot come up with a safe way to get all of you out of the hall. So, you will all be sleeping in here tonight."

There was a groan of disapproval. "I apologize, but there is nothing else that we can do."

"Why can't you just side-along apparate us all out? You're the headmaster, you're allowed to apparate on the grounds!" A Ravenclaw girl shouted.

Dumbledore clucked his tongue. "That simply would not work. It would take hours, and I'm afraid that my old bones could not handle that much apparation in such a short amount of time."

"Just lift the anti-apparation spell so that the teachers and of-age wizards can help!" Suggested a Hufflepuff boy.

"We can't do it on such short notice. I'm sorry, but this is the only option. We are having the house elves bring pillows and blankets for everyone. I would suggest you all get comfortable."

The teachers had finally found the a counter-curse that would work on every single protective spell and incantation used on the muck at half past six in the morning, and everything was easy from there. However, by the next morning, the students had barely slept. Some, like Deacon, Francesco, and Benjamin, had stayed up most of the night talking to one another. Others, like Barty, Regulus, Carson, and Gillian, had been playing games or making jokes with one another. However, most of the students hadn't been able to sleep because of the noise. There was a massive thunderstorm going on outside, and the Great Hall seemed to amplify the noises tenfold. To add to this, the few people who had been able to fall asleep were regular snorers, as well as heavy sleepers, so they couldn't exactly wake them up or tell them to be quiet.

So, when the tables were brought back in for breakfast, mostly every single student had big and dark bags underneath their eyes. Though, there was a group of a select few students who had left the hall before the marauders, and therefore had a good nights rest in their own beds.

When the four marauders entered the hall for breakfast, they were bombarded by tons of angry students. Regulus was glaring at the them through tired eyes all throughout breakfast, along with half of the students in the hall.

Dumbledore stood up and approached the front of the room, used the Sonorous spell on himself, and smiled at the students that filled the Great Hall with heavy lids. "Good morning, everyone!" Dumbledore announced enthusiastically.

Everyone muttered a very apathetic good morning. "Now, I am sure that most of you are as exhausted as I am. So, I, along with the entire staff, have made the decision to cancel classes for the day." Everyone began to applaud, and Dumbledore smiled warmly at the room. "Alright, I'm sure you all want to get some sleep in before lunch. Go along, pip pip."

No one even hesitated. People began rushing out of the hall, practically tripping over one another in the attempts to go to bed. Regulus, Barty, Carson, and Gillian ran down to the dungeons, through the corridors, and into the common room without a moments hesitation. They split off in the room, and then Barty and Regulus split off from Carson outside of the seventh years's dormitory.

Everyone woke up well past lunch. In fact, some people even slept until after dinner. Regulus Black was one of those people.

He woke up with his face smooshed into the pillows, and several thick blankets wrapped tightly 'round himself. He was laying on his stomach, face down, with his legs and arms all bent different ways that, to the eye, looked quite uncomfortable. Regulus groaned and rolled over onto his back, blinking into the empty darkness above.

"Morning, sunshine," Barty called from his own bed.

Regulus yawned and cupped his hand over his eyes, stretching the muscles in his back and legs. "What time is it?" He croaked, sitting up and throwing his head back as he yawned again.

"Half past one," Barty replied, and he stood from his own bed.

Regulus followed the boy with his eyes and he walked across the gap between their two beds and climbed onto Regulus's sitting cross legged at the foot so that the boys were facing one another. "I missed lunch?" Regulus asked.

Barty raised an eyebrow. "You missed dinner too, Reg. It's half past one in the morning."

Regulus groaned and leaned back, pressing his shoulder blades and the back of his head against the headboard of his bed. "I'm starving," he murmured and, as if on cue, his stomach grumbled quite loudly.

Barty stood up from the bed, and Regulus glanced at him. He turned 'round and looked at Regulus with an eyebrow cocked. "Well, come on, let's go get you some food." He held out a hand to help Regulus up.

Regulus smiled at his best mate and took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled out of the bed and into a standing position on the floor. The two boys walked together down to the common room, Barty keeping a close eye on Regulus to make sure that he wouldn't trip in his exhausted and still-waking state.

However, when they reached the common room, it was to discover that they weren't alone.

There was a girl with short brown hair sitting on the couch, reading a book and sipping what appeared to be a mug of tea. She looked up at the sound of the two boys, and she looked back down to her book at once.

"Hullo Barty. Regulus." Phoebe Scott greeted them, and she turned the page of her book.

"Hi Phoebe," both boys chorused. "Do you mind if we sit here?" Regulus asked, gesturing to the two chairs before the fire.

She looked up, and shrugged her shoulders. "Be my guest."

The two boys sat down opposite one another. "Winky!" Barty called, and a very small house elf appeared on the coffee table between the three second years with a _CRACK!_.

"Hello, Master Barty, sir! What can Winky be doing for you?" The tiny elf squeaked.

Regulus looked at the elf with amazement. She was tiny! She appeared to be even smaller than Popsy, and Popsy was the smallest elf that Regulus had ever seen!

"Can you bring us some food?" Barty asked, and he sank deeper into his seat.

Winky nodded her head, which appeared to be much too large to be sitting on such a tiny body. "Yes, Master Barty, sir. Winky will be bringing you some food!" And she disappeared.

"She's very small," Phoebe commented, turning the page of her book again.

Barty nodded his head. "Yeah, she is. She was smaller than me when we first got her, and I was two."

"Interesting," Phoebe said, though her voice sounded very uninterested indeed.

Regulus looked at her, much more awake now than he had been. "What are you reading?"

Phoebe glanced at him through her black-framed glasses, and then back to the book. " _The Picture of Dorian Gray_." She responded.

Regulus furrowed his brow in curiosity. "What's it about?"

"Some guy named Dorian Gray gets told by this guy, Henry - real git, if you ask me - that beauty is everything and that when he gets old he won't really have anything left. So, his friend, Hayward - who also happens to be a painter - paints a portrait of him, and then Dorian is all mad about it because he's jealous that he's going to get old and the painting will stay young forever. So then, he wishes that the painting would age instead of him, and that's exactly what happens. I dunno what happens at the end yet, though, I'm only ten chapters in."

Regulus and Barty were both looking at her oddly. "What kind of spell is that? That's impossible!" Barty said.

"It's not magic. It's a muggle book." Phoebe responded.

"A muggle book?" Barty wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Why are you reading a muggle book?"

"Because it's good," Phoebe replied matter-of-factly.

"Doesn't sound that good. How do they even get anything done without magic?" Regulus asked.

"Muggles live without magic every single day of their lives. It's not that hard."

Barty looked at her in distaste again. "You aren't a muggle-born, are you?"

Phoebe shook her head. "My mum was a witch, but she died a few years after I was born, and my dad's a wizard."

Winky chose that moment to appear back on the coffee table. She was carrying a tray that was absolutely covered in bowls of crisps, sweets, plates of chips and ketchup, and a plate that was covered in different types of fruit. Winky put it down on the table, and she wrung her hands nervously.

"Is Master Barty be needing anything else?" Winky asked.

"No thanks, Winky. This is fine. You can go." Barty replied, and he grabbed an apple slice from the plate.

Winky nodded her head and disappeared, leaving the three second years alone. Regulus and Barty both began digging into their food, and Phoebe went back to her book. It was only a few minutes later that the settled silence was broken.

"So, what's your father's name?" Regulus asked.

Phoebe's eyes darted from her page to Regulus for a brief second, and then she looked back. "You wouldn't know him."

"I might," Regulus amended.

She shook her head. "Trust me, you wouldn't. He's not a Death Eater, and he doesn't work at the Ministry." She said, rather nonchalantly.

Barty slowed in his chewing. "He doesn't work for the Dark Lord?"

Phoebe shook her head. "Nope."

"Why not?" Regulus asked.

"Because, my father and I have the same beliefs. Yeah, sure, muggles and muggle-borns are probably less than pure-bloods, but that doesn't mean that they don't deserve to exist. We think it's dumb."

Regulus and Barty looked at each other again. "You don't want to work for him?"

"Merlin, no. Don't get me wrong, again, I think some of his ideas are ok. However, I think his methods are outlandish. Honestly, have you seen what he's been doing? He killed hundreds of people in the span of one night! For what? To make a point? Those people had lives, and families, and they didn't do anything wrong. Merlin, all of those muggles don't even know why the Death Eaters are attacking them! They don't know that wizards exist, they don't know about the politics of it all. It's like... it's like kicking a puppy. It doesn't know what it did wrong, and it's not going to fix anything."

Barty and Regulus were silent. She looked at the two of them with a raised brow. "If you want to go tell him that I think he's ridiculous, go right on ahead."

"We're not," Regulus said hastily. "It wouldn't do any good. He'd just get angry."

"He'd kill me," she corrected him, though she said it as though she were just telling him the weather reports for the day.

There was silence.

"Why are you telling us this?" Barty asked.

Phoebe shrugged. "Because I think that the two of you are good at keeping secrets."

Regulus cleared his throat and looked away from her. Had that been directed at him? Did she... did she know about all of the secrets that he was keeping? Did she know about Remus? Did she know that he and Deacon had kissed on the pitch? Did she think he liked Deacon romantically? Did she know he was spending time with him?

She sighed and dog eared the corner of the page she was on, standing up and brushing her bangs from her eyes. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you lot in the morning, I s'pose."

"Yeah, goodnight." Barty replied, though he didn't look at her.

"Night." Regulus said, and he gave her a nod.

Once she was out of the room, Barty turned to Regulus with an odd look on his face. "Why doesn't she want to work for the Dark Lord? It's ridiculous!" He exclaimed, and he shook his head as he took a bite from a potato crisp.

Regulus shrugged. "I mean, she told us her reasons, didn't she?"

"Yeah, and they were stupid! Sure, the Dark Lord's methods are a little odd sometimes, but it's not like kicking a puppy! It's like... like... like kicking a dragon!"

"Huh?" Regulus cocked his head.

"Dragons are bad and vicious, right? So are muggles!"

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, yeah I guess that makes sense."

Though, Regulus couldn't help but think that Phoebe had been right. The Dark Lord's methods were becoming quite unruly. He had put more than forty dead bodies on display, for crying out loud! But what he wanted to do, what he was trying to do, it was right. It had to be right.

_The Dark Lord has to be correct. He can't be incorrect. It can't happen. What am I doing if he isn't correct? What am I supposed to do if he isn't correct? Who am I if he isn't correct?_

_But what if he_ is _incorrect?_

_He can't be. No, no the Dark Lord is correct. He has to be._

However, there was a doubt in the back of Regulus's mind that just wouldn't seem to go away.

The next day at dinner, Carson and Gillian were busy doing something for Quidditch. So, it was just Barty and Regulus, down the table from Phoebe Scott. Regulus kept stealing glances at her, and Barty noticed.

"What, do you have a crush on her or something?" Barty teased.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "No! Why would I have a crush on Phoebe ruddy Scott?"

Barty looked at her, and he cocked his head, analyzing her. "I mean, I don't know. She's rather pretty. Smart. Seems nice."

Regulus gave him a look of amusement. "Do _you_ have a crush on her?"

Barty looked at him, feigning offense. "No! She doesn't want to work for the Dark Lord! Why would I ever like someone who didn't want to work for the Dark Lord? You know what, no, she's not smart, I take it back. A smart person would want to work for him."

"Yeah, they would." Regulus responded, though he couldn't help but steal another glance at Phoebe.

What she had said the night before, the points that she had made, simply would not leave Regulus's mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep the doubts out, and he couldn't keep the praises for the Dark Lord in.

Regulus felt like his brain was being torn into two halves, and he didn't know which one he wanted to hold onto.


	42. Are We, Severus?

With both the April and May full moons came two more attacks.

It truly appeared to the wizarding world that the Dark Lord was building an army of werewolves to help fight his fight. With both attacks, there came two more messages. Despite the efforts of the aurors, the four words were placed in the same places, and all of the bodies were found in the same state as the ones previous.

_THE DARK LORD RISES._

_THE TIME HAS COME._

The Daily Prophet was going wild. Every single edition, every single day, had something to do with the Dark Lord. The attacks were increasing, and were now coming on days that were no where near the full moon. There were people being taken, tortured, and put on display all over London, as well as several wizarding locations. The world, to the eyes of its occupants, was truly going to hell.

It was a Saturday in mid-May, and all of the students were spending the day out on the grounds, enjoying the nice weather. Regulus and Barty were both leaned against a tree, staring at the grounds that surrounded them. Regulus was sitting in a little nook in the roots, breathing in the warm, fresh spring air.

There was a light breeze blowing across the grounds, rustling the trees and pushing Regulus's curly black hair 'round his face. The leaves above were breaking up the sunlight, creating a kaleidoscope-like effect on the green grass in front of him. There was a patch of yellow flowers that had grown strategically in just the place that Regulus was sitting. He looked at the little yellow flowers, picking one from the ground and twirling it between his fingers.

Regulus looked up, glancing at a large tree in the middle of the grass, yards and yards away from where he was sitting. Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone were all sitting beneath it, laughing along with one another. Regulus watched as Francesco wrapped an arm 'round the back of Deacon's neck, pulling him in and mussing up his hair with his hand. The secret that he knew about Deacon popped into his mind, and Regulus's observance of the action suddenly changed to one through new eyes.

Regulus hadn't spent much time with Deacon since March. He had found himself with much more doubts about the arrangement, and he was finding it harder and harder to excuse it.

He was still grappling with what to do. He seemed to be split between two options: continue secretly hanging out with Deacon Ackland, or stop completely. And, he completely didn't know what to do. He wanted to keep hanging out with Deacon, because he truly did enjoy it. However, he knew that he shouldn't. Again, his family popped into his mind. They would practically kill him on sight if they discovered that he was hanging out with a mudblood, let alone continuing to spend time around a mudblood who had _kissed him_. Every time Regulus thought about it, he expected to feel angry or disgusted, but he didn't. And it made him feel confused. It made him feel conflicted. It made him feel like an imposter. It made him question everything that he knew - everything that he thought he knew. Regulus truly didn't know what to do.

He was so unsure, in fact, that the flower that he was absently twisting in his fingers suddenly had a different meaning.

He looked down at it, took a deep breath, and reached out a slightly-shaky hand. He grabbed onto one of the tiny, golden petals, and he pulled.

_Continue hanging out with Deacon._

He pulled another.

_Stop hanging out with Deacon._

_Continue hanging out with Deacon._

_Stop hanging out with Deacon._

_Continue hanging out with Deacon._

_Stop hanging out with Deacon._

_Continue hanging out with Deacon._

He ran out of petals. The decision had been made, and Regulus felt utterly relieved at the option that had been chosen. Again, he truly did enjoy spending time with the boy. Deacon was nice. Deacon made Regulus feel normal. Deacon made Regulus feel ok.

"Whatcha doin' there, Black?" Carson asked.

Regulus looked up into the branches of the tree. Carson was lounging across one of them on his back, right arm hanging over the edge and flailing in the air, other hand rested on his stomach. Regulus looked back at the petal-less flower, and he threw the stem to the ground.

"Nothing," Regulus responded, and he picked another flower from the ground to swirl around absently.

Carson smirked, sat up, and twisted so that he was laying on his stomach, staring directly down at Regulus. "Trying to decide something? What was it? Whether to ask out a girl, perhaps? Who do you like, little Black?"

Regulus chuckled. "No one, Carson," he responded.

"Oh, come on! You have to like someone, right? Gill, who d'you reckon little Black has a crush on?" He looked up towards where Gillian was sitting, cross legged in the grass, picking and pulling at the green blades.

"Huh?" She asked, looking up.

Carson was silent a moment, and Regulus looked up at him. He was staring at Gillian, apparently awestruck. Regulus looked back to the girl, and he understood why he was looking so adoringly at her.

Her light blonde hair was blowing gently in the breeze, pushing strands of it onto her sharp and beautiful face. The beams of light which were flickering in and out of the gaps in the leaves were landing across her face, giving her light skin the appearance that it was glowing, and her hazel eyes appeared to be sparkling in the natural light.

"Carson?" She asked, breaking him out of the comatose-like state that he had found himself in.

"Huh? Oh, right. Who d'you think Regulus here has a crush on?" Carson asked, laying his hand on the branch of the tree and resting his chin against the back of it.

Gillian looked at Regulus with a humorous smile. "You like someone?"

"Reg likes someone?!" Barty asked, and he immediately turned to his best mate.

Regulus looked between his three friends, and he let out a laugh. "No! No, I don't have a crush on anyone."

The other three all gave each other disbelieving expressions. "Yeah, alright Reg," Barty muttered, and he turned back to the extra credit Transfiguration essay that he was writing.

Carson suddenly jumped down from branch, and he sprawled himself out in the grass between his three friends. He propped his head in his hands, listening to the psithurism that was sounding through the air. He took a deep breath, and he smiled at the empty air above.

"This is nice, isn't it?" He asked.

The other three looked at him, and they all voiced their agreement. The smile on his face faltered, and his eyes seemed to lose a bit of their sparkle.

"I'm gonna miss this." He stated.

The other three all paused in what they were doing, and they looked around at one another. "We all will," Regulus replied.

Carson took another deep breath. "You know, I only have a month left in this place."

"Don't remind us," Gillian said, her voice laced with despair.

"I'm just saying! Guys, we only have a month left as a group! And Gill is gonna graduate next year, and then it'll just be you two little tossers." Carson propped himself up on his elbows, and glanced towards Barty and Regulus.

The two second years looked at one another, and then back at their friends. "Well, I say we don't think about that right now. It's a nice day, let's just enjoy it," Barty suggested.

"I agree," Gillian said.

Regulus nodded in agreement.

As if on cue, someone cleared their throat. All four pairs of eyes turned, and they landed on the red-haired form of Lily Evans. She was standing with her hands on her hips, and her eyes were darting between all four of the Slytherins before her.

The four friends looked at each in confusion, and then back to the third year Gryffindor girl.

"Can we help you?" Gillian asked, her voice firm and cold.

Regulus looked at her in surprise. Gillian's voice was never that mean-sounding, except for when she was speaking to Evan Rosier. He turned back to Lily Evans, who was staring directly at him.

"I need to speak to Regulus," she said.

Regulus furrowed his brow, and he allowed the small flower to fall from his fingers and onto the ground. "Uh... why?" He asked.

Lily crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" She asked.

Carson Nott sat up straight, staring with narrowed eyes at the girl. "Actually, it does."

She rolled her eyes. "Relax, it's not like I'm going to infect him with my blood status." She then turned her full attention back to Regulus. "So? Can I talk to you?"

"Ok. Talk." Regulus said, trying to keep his voice as hard-sounding as possible.

Her eyes darted to the other three, and then returned to the younger Black brother. "Alone."

Regulus let out a frustrated sigh and stood up from the ground, brushing off his clothes. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

The two walked off towards the middle of the grounds, stopping in a patch of grass and sunlight which wasn't occupied. Regulus crossed his arms and stared at Lily Evans in indifference.

"So? What do you want?" He demanded.

Lily Evans gave him a stern expression, putting her hands on her hips. "Sev tells me that you're being mean to him, and you need to stop." She commanded him.

Regulus couldn't help but laugh at the prospect of what she was saying. "Excuse me?" He asked.

"Sev! He said you're being rude to him! And I'll have you know, Regulus, that it won't stand, and I am here to put a stop to it." Lily Evans raised her chin and stared at Regulus with a firm gaze.

Regulus glanced past Lily Evans, and he noticed that Severus Snape himself was standing in the grass, just a few feet away. Regulus found amusement in the embarrassed look that Severus Snape was giving off.

"Sicking your little mudblood on me, are we, Severus?" Regulus called, and Severus's flush of embarrassment deepened to a shade of crimson.

"Don't call me that, you little maggot!" Lily said.

Regulus looked at her with humor dancing in his eyes. "Don't see your darling Sev defending you, do you?"

Lily was quiet a moment. "I don't need him to defend me!" She suddenly exclaimed. "I can defend myself!"

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Regulus said, though there was a lilt of mockery in his tone. "But, I just think it's a little odd that your so-called best mate isn't defending your name."

Lily turned to look at Severus, and then tuned back to Regulus. "Just stop being mean to Sev!" She demanded.

"I'll stop being mean to your precious Severus when he stops being an insufferable prat." Regulus shot.

"He is not!" Lily shouted, and she stamped her foot in frustration. 

"Yeah, whatever you say." Regulus said, rolling his eyes and taking a step back from her. "That all?"

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. Regulus took her lack of speech as an answer, and he walked past her to return to his friends, who were all staring indignantly at the girl.

Severus Snape watched Regulus go, rage boiling up in him. He suddenly became very aware of the wand that was stowed away in his pocket, and the idea struck him. No one was paying much attention. He could hit Regulus with the spell, and who would know it was him? Even if they did, he could talk himself out of it. If Evan Rosier could talk himself out of it, so could Severus Snape. It would be so easy. He was older than Rosier, he could cast it more expertly. It would have worse results. Regulus Black would finally get what he deserved. Lily wouldn't be angry, no, she hated Regulus just as much as Severus did! It would be so easy...

He drew his wand from his pocket, and pointed it steadily at the retreating back of Regulus Black. The spell was there, on the tip of this tongue...

All he had to do was open his mouth.

Regulus was halfway back to his friends when he heard Lily shouting. "SEV! STOP IT!" She yelled, and Regulus immediately thought that he had a pretty good idea of what she was trying to prevent.

He discreetly reached for his wand, and waited for a signal. It came, and he was ready.

" _ADUSTI_ -"

" _FLIPENDO_!" Regulus shouted, spinning around just in time to have his spell hit Severus Snape squarely in the chest.

Severus Snape fell backwards, sprawling out across the green grass below. Regulus lowered his wand and walked swiftly towards the boy on the ground, who's breath had been knocked from him. Regulus stood over him, staring down at him with a look of resentment.

"Sorry, Sev," Regulus taunted, and he stared directly into his cold, black eyes, "I don't fancy having my skin melted off again anytime soon."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus sneered, using his hands to support himself as he stood, brushing off his clothes.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "I think I would recognize the spell that kept me in the hospital wing for over a week, Severus." He hissed, a grimace etched onto his pale face.

Severus was quiet a moment, and Regulus gave him a taunting smirk. "Yeah, don't have anything to say to that, do you?"

Regulus turned around, keeping his wand in his hand just in case. This was a good decision, for the next thing he knew-

" _STUPEFY_!" Severus Snape shouted, and a jet of red light shot past Regulus, missing him by no more than an inch.

Regulus spun around, sending a glare Severus's way, and raising his wand. " _LOCOMOTOR MORTIS_!" He shouted, and a jet of purple light shot straight towards Severus Snape.

Severus managed to dodge the spell, if only barely. Lily Evans was standing back, staring at her best friend in exasperation.

" _FURNUNCULUS_!" Gold light shot at Regulus, and he had to duck to avoid it.

" _RICTUSEMPRA_!" Regulus shouted the first thing that came to his mind. In the back of his mind, Regulus was a little worried. The last time he had used a tickling charm on someone, he ended up in the hospital wing.

Severus Snape blocked it. " _CONFRACTUS_!" Regulus was a bit taken aback by the spell, and was slower to block it for this reason. He had never heard that spell before, and he was completely unaware of what it could do. It hit his left wrist, and there was a grotesque-sounding _crack_ that sounded in the ears of every single person watching the duel.

Regulus clenched his jaw to hold in a shout of pain. Severus Snape was obviously much more advanced than Regulus, and he knew quite a lot more spells that Regulus couldn't even dream of. He needed to make him stop casting spells. The spell hit him, and he shouted it through clenched teeth.

" _LANGLOCK_!" It hit Severus, who was distracted by the reaction that his spell had caused.

Severus waved his wand, trying to cast another spell, but he couldn't cast it. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, and it caused an odd gurgling sound. Regulus allowed a triumphant smirk onto his face, and he stowed his wand back into his pocket. His wrist was throbbing with pain, however, and with the adrenaline of the duel being gone, he was suddenly made quite aware of it.

There was a circle of students surrounding the duel, all looking between the two Slytherins eagerly.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING ON HERE?!" A shrill voice broke through the thick crowd of students, and the onlookers parted quickly.

Professor McGonagall stormed into the circle, taking in the scene before her. Severus Snape was gripping his throat, choking on the words that he was trying to form. Regulus was slumped forward, clutching his wrist, his jaw clenched. All of the witnesses were wearing shocked expressions, and McGonagall was able to deduce what was happening fairly easily.

"YOU TWO, WITH ME, NOW." McGonagall shouted, pointed between the two Slytherin boys.

Regulus and Severus glared at one another, but followed closely behind McGonagall nonetheless. Regulus was still clutching his wrist to himself, holding it in a certain way that somehow made it hurt less. Severus Snape had given up trying to speak, and he had his arms crossed over his chest. As Regulus looked at him, he thought that the resemblance to a petulant child was uncanny.

McGonagall led the two boys across the grounds, into the castle, through the entrance hall, up several flights of stairs, and she stopped them in front of a rather large pair of stone gargoyles. Regulus furrowed his brow at the sight, unsure exactly what they were doing there. McGonagall's office was in the Transfiguration wing, not here.

"I enjoy a nice Cauldron Cake." McGonagall said to the gargoyles, and Regulus looked at her in confusion.

Though, he quickly realized why she had done it. The great stone gargoyles seemed to come to life, and they jumped off of their plinths. Behind them, there was a large archway which led into a rather circular-looking room. In the middle of the room, there was a golden-framed spiral staircase that led up to a landing.

Regulus and Severus followed warily behind McGonagall, who was walking briskly. She stepped onto the staircase, walked up a few steps to give the boys room, and then stopped. Regulus was confused as to why she wasn't walking up, but he stepped onto the staircase nonetheless. As soon as all three occupants had stepped onto the spiral case, Regulus was amazed to see that the staircase began moving upwards by itself.

Regulus clung to the railing with his good arm, wobbling slightly from the sudden movement. He looked over the edge in amazement, watching as he and the two other occupants climbed ever-so-steadily higher.

When they reached the landing, the staircase halted in its movement, and McGonagall stepped off of the staircase. "Come," she said, and she walked over to a rather large wooden door.

Regulus and Severus followed her, and Regulus glanced 'round the landing. Beside the door, there was a small umbrella stand with a bright-yellow umbrella hanging out. There was also what appeared to be a coat hanger that was nailed to the wall with a big purple raincoat hanging on it.

McGonagall raised her fist and rapped on the door, taking a step back and folding her hands together behind herself.

"Come in," a warm voice called from inside, and Regulus felt his blood run cold. They were in Dumbledore's office! Would he be expelled?

McGonagall opened the door and walked briskly inside, followed closely behind by the two boys.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, pouring over a pile of paperwork. He lowered his quill and looked at the three new arrivals over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked, his eyes darting between the three figures before him.

"Albus, these two students were dueling on the grounds!" McGonagall stated.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, and he gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, will you?"

Regulus and Severus begrudgingly sat down, and McGonagall stood to the side of the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore looked between the two boys with a smile, waiting for one of them to begin. Regulus began fiddling with his fingers in his lap, pulling at the skin 'round his nails, ignoring the sharp pain in his wrist to the best of his abilities.

"So," Dumbledore began, "tell me what happened."

Severus and Regulus turned to face each other, glaring, and then turned back to the headmaster. Neither of them said a word. Dumbledore waited patiently, taking his glasses off and buffing the lenses with the sleeve of his robes. He placed the glasses back on the bridge of his nose, folded his hands on the desk before himself, and turned to Regulus.

"Mr. Black? Would you like to start?" He asked.

Regulus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "I was hanging out with my friends on the grounds, and then Lily Evans said that she wanted to talk to me. So, I went to go talk with her, and she told me that I needed to "stop being mean to Severus" even though I didn't even do anything! Then, I was walking away, and Severus here, tried to hex me, with the hex that _put me in the bloody hospital wing for a week and a half_!"

Dumbledore turned to Severus imploringly. "Is this true, Mr. Snape?"

Severus opened his mouth and pointed to it, indicating that he was still under the Langlock hex. Dumbledore nodded in understanding, and gave Regulus a look of... could that be... amusement? He pointed his wand at the face of Severus Snape, and silently cast the counter-spell.

Severus's tongue came unstuck from the roof of his mouth, and he sighed in relief. He cleared his throat, and began his side. "I didn't tell Evans to talk to him, she did it herself." His voice was hoarse from disuse.

"And, did you really try to use that specific hex on Mr. Black?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus shook his head, and Regulus's brows creased in irritation. "You did! I was there!" He shouted.

Severus shot him an intense glare. "I didn't. You must have misheard."

"I didn't mishear anything! You literally started to say it!"

"Did not," Severus was managing to keep his voice level and cold, while Regulus's voice was growing quite loud.

Regulus huffed in frustration, and he crossed his arms across his chest; it was his turn to resemble a petulant child. Though, the force with which he crossed his arms increased the pain in his wrist, and he winced.

"Are you alright, Mr. Black?" McGonagall asked, noticing the wince.

Regulus looked at her with a hard expression. "No. _Someone_ broke my wrist," he shot Severus a look.

"Broke your wrist?!" McGonagall rushed towards the boy, gripping his left wrist and pulling it towards herself. She clucked her tongue as she examined the swollen and bruised wrist, twisting it so that she could see the underside as well. She turned to Dumbledore with a pointed look. "I need to take Mr. Black to Poppy."

Dumbledore nodded, a look of concern glistening in his bright blue eyes. "Yes, you must. Mr. Black, you are free to go."

Severus shot the headmaster an irritated look. "He doesn't even get a detention?!"

"We will deal with that later," Dumbledore said dismissively.

Regulus gave Severus Snape one last triumphant smirk before following closely behind Professor McGonagall.

Madam Pomfrey was less than pleased to see Regulus Black back in her hospital wing. When he walked inside beside McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey almost dropped the potion that she was holding.

"Mr. Black! It hasn't recurred? It's been months! Oh no, let me get the salve! Oh goodness, we'll need bandages too, and potions! Minerva, dear, would you please lay Mr. Black down in one of those beds? I'll-" Madam Pomfrey was rushing around the ward, trying to find everything that she would need.

"Poppy!" McGonagall broke her out of her panic, and she held up Regulus's broken wrist. "It's his wrist, Poppy, nothing to be too alarmed about."

Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, alright. Mr. Black, please sit on one of these beds, and I'll be right over in a jiffy." Madam Pomfrey went back to bustling 'round the ward, grabbing the things that she would need to heal Regulus's wrist.

Regulus sat down on the bed that Madam Pomfrey had pointed him to, and McGonagall stood at the end of it. Regulus looked at her, and she gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Would you like me to get someone for you, Mr. Black?" She asked.

Regulus thought a moment. "Can you just go tell Barty that I'm here, please?" He asked, trying to keep his voice kind.

She nodded her head. "Of course. Feel better, Mr. Black," and she left the hospital wing with her hands clasped in front of her.

Regulus glanced around the room, noting that he was the only patient in the ward at that precise moment in time. Madam Pomfrey came over to him a minute later, levitating several things behind herself. "Alright, Mr. Black, let's get this wrist taken care of."

She grabbed his arm gingerly, examining his wrist. "Ok, this looks easy enough. I'm going to have to ask you to hold very still." She drew her wand from her pocket and pointed it at his wrist. "This may hurt just a smidge."

Just a smidge was definitely an understatement. As soon as she uttered the spell, Regulus could feel his bones snap back into place and heal within seconds. However, the pain of it was enough to make Regulus feel dizzy. Though, luckily, it died down to a dull ache in less than one minute.

"Ok, all healed," she gave him a smile, and then reached for a bottle of potion and a small glass. "I'm sure you know what this is?"

Regulus recognized the specific shade of purple as the pain potion that he had practically lived off of in January. He took the glass with his right hand and downed every last drop of the liquid within. He handed the empty cup back to Madam Pomfrey, sighing in relief at the complete dissipation of pain that came along with it.

Barty entered the hospital wing at that precise moment. "Reg!" He called, and he rushed over to his friend.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him. "Mr. Crouch, I trust that you will be able to help your friend to the Great Hall for lunch?" Barty nodded his head. "Ok. Mr. Black, you may go."

Regulus hopped off of the bed, and he and Barty started towards the doors that led out of the ward. Regulus suddenly stopped, and he gave Barty a challenging expression. "I'll race you to the Great Hall."

Barty smirked in response. "You're on."

The two boys took off running down the hall. Madam Pomfrey let out a gasp of exasperation, and she rushed towards the doorway. "MR. BLACK, MR. CROUCH, NO RUNNING! YOU'LL HURT YOURSELVES!"

Regulus and Barty didn't slow down, and they disappeared 'round the corner within seconds. Madam Pomfrey shook her head and walked back to the bed that Regulus had been occupying seconds before, thinking about the reckless behavior of both Black brothers.

Regulus won the race.

He crossed over the threshold into the Great Hall mere seconds before Barty, and he gave his friend a victorious smile. Barty entered the hall, and he immediately placed his hands on his knees, bending over to help himself catch his breath. Regulus pat him firmly on the back, and the two boys walked side by side to the place where Carson and Gillian were already sitting.

As soon as Regulus dropped onto the bench, he was made aware of just how thirsty he was. His mouth was completely dry, and his throat felt scratchy and sore. He noticed the mug that was sat in front of Carson's plate, and - assuming it was tea - pointed to it. "Do you mind?"

Carson looked at the cup, and then looked to Regulus with a smirk. "Be my guest." The liquid in the cup wasn't tea, and Carson was fully expecting Regulus not to like it.

Regulus grabbed the cup, took a swig without looking at the color of the liquid, and was quite taken aback by the taste that entered his mouth. It was sort of bitter, with a sourness that followed closely behind. Though, oddly, Regulus found the taste quite comforting. He took another drink, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"What is this?" He asked, opening and closing his mouth several times to better understand the taste.

"Coffee," Carson replied.

Regulus nodded his head and took yet another drink. "It's good."

Carson gave him a look of surprise. "Really? You like it?"

Regulus nodded. Carson cocked his head in understanding. "You can have the rest of it," and he took a chip from his plate.

"Thanks," Regulus said, and he took another drink. It was quite an addicting taste, he had to admit.

Severus Snape entered his dorm room after coming back from Dumbledore's office. He glanced around the room to be sure that no one was there; sure enough, it was completely empty. With the assumption that they were all at lunch, he quickly walked to his bed and opened up the top drawer of his bedside table.

He took out a black journal from within, and opened to the dog-eared page. He ran his finger down the page, reading the list of spells. He found the one he was looking for, and Severus smirked to himself as he took a pen and scribbled something beside it.

_Confractus - breaks bones_

He drew a little star next to it, assuming that that one would definitely come in handy. Perhaps he could even use it on James Potter at some point! The thought itself was enough to get Severus through for weeks.

The next morning, Regulus drank no less than three full cups of coffee. Carson, Gillian, and Barty were staring at him in amazement. Gillian looked at Carson with a mixture of distaste and humor.

"I think you got poor Regulus addicted," she accused.

Carson let out a chuckle, watching with interest as Regulus downed half of a cup in seconds. "You know what, Gill? I think I did."

Regulus looked at the two of them, lowering his third empty mug to the table. "Did what?"

His cup of coffee refilled itself, and he reached for it.

"Oh, no, Reg, I think you've had enough," Barty said, and he slid the mug of coffee away from Regulus's outstretched hand and to himself.

Regulus sighed and grabbed a piece of toast instead, taking a bite.

"You know what, I think little Black's coffee addiction shall be my parting gift to the three of you. I'll be known forever. Carson Nott, the man who got Regulus Black so addicted to coffee that he drank England's whole supply." He held his hands in front of himself as though he were holding up a poster for emphasis.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad."

Gillian raised an eyebrow, and she pointed to Regulus's hand, which was trembling ever-so-slightly from the amount of caffein that he had ingested. "You were saying?"

Regulus hid his hands beneath the table, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck. Carson, Gillian, and Barty all laughed, and Regulus couldn't help but join in.

Regulus absently looked between Carson and Gillian, and his eyes landed on Deacon Ackland. The smaller boy looked rather down, and Regulus furrowed his brow in curiosity. He glanced at Deacon's surroundings, and noticed that Francesco was no where to be seen.

Regulus immediately understood why Deacon was upset.

Regulus thought back to the flower that he had pulled petals from the day before. He smiled to himself a moment, thinking about the prospect of being able to spend time with Deacon again without feeling guilty.

Though, he felt his smile falter when he realized that, realistically, that feeling would never last. Because, when it came to Regulus Black, good things never tended to last very long.


	43. Mum? Dad?

It was the night of the June full moon.

The Gryffindors had Astronomy that night, and they were all sitting up in the tower, goofing around with one another. Professor Itri had been called away on something rather urgent sounding, and had been gone for more than thirty minutes. So, none of the second year Gryffindors were doing anything.

Deacon, Benji, and Francesco were all sitting in the back of the tower, backs pressed against the cold stone wall, staring out at the area around them. Deacon was sitting between Francesco and Benji, and he could feel Francesco leaning towards him by the smallest little bit. Deacon enjoyed the feeling. Not only of that, but just of being with his two best mates. He knew that he only had a few weeks left at Hogwarts, and that he would soon be thrust back into the life that he lived at home. He really didn't want to go back, but he didn't see a way of getting out of it. Not only this, but being back home also meant that he wouldn't be able to see Fran or Benji for weeks on end. Merlin, he would really, really miss them.

"You alright, Dea?" Fran whispered, and he leaned closer to Deacon so that he was speaking directly to him.

Deacon turned his head to face Fran, and he felt his breath catch in his throat at the close proximity of the two; he could practically feel Fran's breath on his face. However, he was suddenly reminded of Valentine's Day - the day that he had kissed Regulus Black - and it made him recoil just the slightest bit.

"Dea?" Fran asked, noticing the odd reaction that the smaller boy had had.

Deacon faced forward again, resting his head against the wall behind him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok." He said. And, for once, Deacon thought that he truly meant it.

"Hey, have you lot filled out the forms that Professor McGonagall gave us yet?" Benji asked.

Deacon and Francesco turned to look at him. "Forms?" Francesco asked.

"Yeah, the ones about which classes we're taking next term?"

"Oh, right! Yeah, I think I have mine done," Deacon said.

"Which classes did you put, Dea?" Fran asked him.

"Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Divination. What about you two?"

"I put Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Muggle Studies," Francesco said.

Both of his friends turned to him. "Muggle studies?" Benji asked.

Francesco shrugged. "Yeah, why not. Seems easy enough. And, hey, we have Deacon here. He can help with our homework!" He nudged Deacon with his elbow.

Deacon laughed. "Yeah, right."

Benji thought a moment. "I guess I'll take it too, then. No offense, Dea, but I am not taking Ancient Runes. I've heard it's torture."

Deacon rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's not _that_ bad."

"My cousin took it," Francesco said. "She said she wanted to drop out within the first three minutes. Got a Poor on her O.W.L."

"Well, I'll just have to do good at it then, won't I?"

The three boys laughed, and then they settled into a peaceful silence.

Suddenly, though, Lottie Burton's voice broke the moment of peace that the three boys were sharing.

"Who's that?" She asked, her voice dripping with worry.

The three boys looked at one another curiously, and they immediately scooted over so that they were sitting directly behind the railing on the edge of the tower. Deacon had to squint his eyes to see through the thick darkness in front of him, but, sure enough, there were two people breaking through the line of trees of the Forbidden Forest. Deacon furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Are those the Prewetts?" Benji asked, catching a flash of moonlight in the bright red hair of the two young twins.

"Why are they coming out of the Dark Forest? It's forbidden!" Lennox exclaimed, and she leaned further over the railing to get a better look. "And why are they running?"

Sure enough, Gideon and Fabian Prewett were practically sprinting across the grounds. Another figure emerged from the tree line. And another. And another. Soon, there were no less than ten people absolutely legging it across the grounds.

"That's Professor Shacklebolt!" Lottie shouted, pointing to one of the tallest people in the group.

"That's Alastor Moody," Benji commented, pointing out a rather haggard looking man. His face appeared to be misshapen and scarred, and he was walking with an antalgic gait. "And that's Edgar Bones."

"Who are they?" Deacon asked.

"Aurors," Benji explained, "in fact... I think almost everyone down there is an auror."

"Why are there a group of aurors running here?" Deacon asked, a panicked lilt in his voice.

"Dunno..." Fran said, and his brows creased with concern. "But, whatever it is, it can't be good."

However, before they could continue their questions, two more figures broke through the line of trees. Benji's eyes widened, and he stood up at once.

"MUM? DAD?" He shouted, utterly shocked by the appearance of his two parents.

Every single figure on the grounds glanced towards the Astronomy tower, and they immediately noticed the dark silhouettes of five students. They all began running faster.

"Those are your parents?" Fran asked, and he stood up so as to get a better look.

Benji didn't answer. "What would they be doing here? Why are my parents here with a bunch of aurors?!"

"Those aren't all of the aurors," Fran mumbled, his face contorted with confusion. "Bartemius Crouch isn't even there."

"What?" Deacon asked, and he scanned the group, which were now almost inside of the castle. "Why would all of the aurors be here without the Head of the department?"

"Because I don't think they're here on official auror business," Benji said, and he looked at his two friends. "Why would my parents be here? Sure, my dad is Head of the Wizengamot, which technically has to do with the aurors, but what about my mum? She's Head of Magical Liaisons! She doesn't have anything to do with the aurors!"

"Maybe it's something international?" Deacon suggested, but even as the words left his mouth, he found himself doubting it.

"Ah! You five, come with me!" McGonagall was suddenly behind them in the tower, looking quite flustered.

"Professor, what's going on? Why are my parents here?" Benji asked, following closely behind McGonagall as she briskly led the five Gryffindor second years back to the common room.

"I am not at liberty to discuss that with you, Mr. Stone," McGonagall said, and she glanced over her shoulder to be sure that all five of them were still behind her.

"But Professor, they're my parents! If they're in danger-" Benji began, but McGonagall reached out a silencing hand to cut him off.

"Mr. Stone, I cannot discuss this with you. Please, be quiet. I promise, if something happens, you will be the first to know."

"THEY'RE MY PARENTS!" Benji shouted.

McGonagall stopped walking and spun around. "Mr. Stone, _please_ be quiet." McGonagall implored. "I can promise you, your parents will be fine."

"But what are they doing here?" Benji asked.

" _I cannot tell you_!" McGonagall said, and she returned to her walking. "If it makes you feel any better, Mr. Stone, I will come retrieve you when their work is done so that you can say hello."

"Thanks, Professor," Benji murmured, though he was obviously quite worried about his parents.

Deacon and Fran looked at one another, and they both knew at once that they were thinking exactly the same thing: it's the full moon. There are several Ministry officials here.

There must be another attack.

Regulus Black was fast asleep in his dorm room. He had the covers pulled up to his chin, half of his face buried in his pillow, his legs bent and knees almost pressed against his chest. He was sleeping in a little ball of blankets and thick pyjamas.

"GET UP, YOU LOT!" Someone shouted, bursting into the second years's dorm room and clapping their hands loudly.

Regulus was so shocked by the noise that he jolted awake, rolling off of his bed and hitting the hardwood floor with a cry and a _thump_. Barty groaned and buried his face beneath his covers, trying to block out any noise. Theodore Travers didn't even wake for several long seconds. Evan Rosier let out an irritated groan and began shouting insults and threats at whoever was waking them up.

"GET YOUR ARSES OUT OF BED!" The same voice called, and they tore open the curtains of all of their beds, aside from Regulus's.

Regulus sat on the ground, still half asleep, rubbing his tailbone. "Wha's goin' on?" He slurred.

"Slughorn's in the common room, told us to come wake everyone up."

"Why?" Barty asked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and stretching his arms into the air.

"Dunno, but he wants everyone down there, so come on." The person left the room, and all four of the boys were quiet for a moment.

"Well, let's get it over with, I guess," Barty said, and he stood from the bed.

Regulus stood up from the ground, stifling a yawn and scratching the back of his head. "Alright," he muttered, barely being able to keep his eyes open.

The spiral staircase which led to the common room had never felt longer. Regulus's limbs felt like lead, and he and Barty had to catch one another from falling multiple times. When they reached the room, it was to find almost every single Slytherin student already down there, all in similar states.

They were all in their pyjamas, had disheveled hair, expressions of tiredness, and didn't have shoes. Slughorn was standing by the door to the common room, a worried look on his face as he craned his neck to look at the crowd of Slytherins which was forming.

Once the last student had descended into the common room, Slughorn cleared his throat. The whole room went silent, and everyone gave him their full attention. "Hello, everyone!" He called, though his voice was much less cheerful than it normally was.

"Why are we all awake?" A fifth year girl called.

"Yeah! It's two o'clock in the ruddy morning!" A seventh year boy added.

"I know you're all probably exhausted, but the headmaster has insisted that I warn you all!" Slughorn shouted to all of the students.

There was a ringing silence for a brief moment, and then everyone broke into chatter.

"Warn us? Warn us about what?"

"Are we under attack?"

"What's going on?"

"Are we in danger?"

"Where's Dumbledore?"

"Quiet, everyone!" Slughorn boomed, and the room went completely silent again. "I don't want any of you to panic, because I can assure you all that we will be fine! However, Dumbledore has insisted that I warn you all of a possible evacuation." He paused a moment, his eyes darting from student to student. "Hogsmeade is under attack."

Some students looked at each other in fear, others in curiosity, and others knowingly and unvexed.

"Under attack by what?" Asked Phoebe Scott.

"I am not sure," Slughorn said, but everyone was able to come to their own conclusions rather quickly: werewolves. "You must all stay here. No one is to leave this room unless you are being instructed to by a Professor. Understood?" Slughorn asked, suddenly rather serious.

They all nodded.

"Excellent. Now, I must suggest that you stay awake. Just in case."

Though, Slughorn didn't even have to say that. Everyone in that common room was suddenly wide awake.

It was almost thirty minutes later. Gillian, Carson, Regulus, and Barty were sitting in a circle on the rug before the fireplace. Barty and Regulus were both half asleep, slumped over one another. Barty's head was on Regulus's shoulder, and Regulus's head was on top of his. Carson and Gillian looked at the two of them, both still wide awake from the news that they had received.

The Dark Lord hadn't told them about an attack. None of them. Well, they suspected that he could have told others, but not them. No, neither of them knew it was going to happen.

Carson glanced towards Gillian and, without giving much thought to who was watching, he grabbed her hand and twined their fingers together. Gillian was quite taken aback by the gesture at first, but he could feel her fingers and hand relaxing as she melted into it. The two were silent, relishing in the feeling of their fingers gripping one another.

"I knew you guys were dating," Regulus murmured, allowing a tired smirk onto his face as he stared at them through narrowed, bleary eyes.

Gillian flushed, and Carson raised an eyebrow. "We're not," he said, but he could tell that Regulus didn't believe him whatsoever.

"Whatever you say," he said, and he let out an exhausted sigh. "Do you know what's happening in Hogsmeade?"

"What's happening in Hogsmeade?!" Barty asked, suddenly jolting awake and sitting up straight.

The speed at which Barty had lifted his head from beneath Regulus's caused Regulus's head to shoot up, pinching a nerve in the crook of his neck. Barty looked at the two wearily, and Carson and Gillian released one another's hands.

"No," Carson said, and he shook his head, "we didn't hear anything about it."

Regulus furrowed his brow, massaging the painful part of his neck. "Why wouldn't he tell you?"

Carson and Gillian shrugged. "Dunno. He probably only told people with the mark."

Regulus cocked his head, but Barty was the one to speak. "You guys don't have marks?" He sounded surprised.

Gillian and Carson both shook their heads. "Nope. Someone can be given the mark at two times. When they turn sixteen, or after they leave school. Only the most trusted, loyal, or valuable of his followers get the mark at sixteen. Far as I know, Yaxley and Macnair are the only two who have it right now who are still in school."

"So you're getting the mark when you graduate?" Barty asked.

Carson nodded. "Yeah. My father wrote me a few weeks ago, the Dark Lord is ready to give it to me as soon as I'm out of school. Gill here is probably gonna be the same."

Gillian nodded. "I'm already sixteen, and I haven't gotten it yet, so I'm assuming I'll get it when I graduate."

"You're already sixteen?" Regulus asked, suddenly much more awake than he had been before.

Gillian nodded. "I turned sixteen in November."

"Why didn't you tell us? We could've celebrated!" Barty said.

"Well, we weren't really friends in November," Gillian pointed out.

"Oh, right. I guess you're right..." Regulus said, though he was looking sympathetically at Gillian.

He still remembered the conversation that he had had with her the night that he had snuck into the restricted section. In fact, it was the first real conversation that he had ever had with the girl whom he now called one of his good friends. She had told Regulus about her arranged marriage to Corban Yaxley, and how she would be officially promised to him when she turned sixteen. So, since her birthday had already passed, that meant that Gillian was already officially promised to marry Corban Yaxley. He felt awful for her.

"Hey, why do you lot reckon the Dark Lord is attacking Hogsmeade?" Barty piped up.

"Well, he wants to attack the castle, doesn't he?" Gillian asked.

"He does, but he doesn't have enough information yet, does he?" Carson pointed out. "I mean, we haven't even had our big meeting where we share the information that we got."

"That's true, but couldn't he figure it out on his own? I mean he's the _Dark Lord_ ," Regulus commented.

"Yeah, but he had to have known that he wouldn't be able to just barge into the castle from Hogsmeade, right?" Barty asked. "So, why is he attacking Hogsmeade? It's just drawing attention."

The four friends thought this over for a moment, and then it hit Regulus. He looked up from the carpet, and he met eyes with Carson, who had seemed to realize at the same exact moment.

"He's making another statement," they said in unison. 

Gillian and Barty looked at one another. "Well, as he should." Barty said.

"Yeah. If the wizarding world isn't going to get it into their heads that he means business, he needs to do something to prove it." Carson added.

"Maybe now they'll stop trying to fight him," Gillian finished.

Regulus was the only one who didn't have anything positive to say about the statement that the Dark Lord was making at that very moment.

Paisley Stone was walking the outskirts of Hogsmeade with Dedalus Diggle. They were creeping as slowly as possible, clutching their wands in hand.

"Merlin, this is messy," Dedalus muttered, and Paisley nodded her agreement.

"Voldemort is nothing if not a creature of habit," Paisley said back.

Her thick American accent caught Dedalus off guard. "How is it that your accent is still so ruddy thick? You've lived here for, what, fourteen years?"

"Give or take," Paisley replied, and she side-eyed him. "I don't know how it's still so thick. I suppose the _California girl_ inside of me never truly went away." She smirked at the distaste that came over Dedalus's face with the remark.

"How's Benjamin?" Dedalus asked after a few moments of silence, trying to make small talk to break the stress and tension that was settling itself around them.

"He's wonderful. He's a second year, you know. He absolutely loves it here. I've heard that he has two quite wonderful friends."

"What are their names?"

"I believe they're Francesco and Deacon."

Dedalus nodded his head. "Those are some nice names."

Paisley gave him a smile. "They are, aren't they?"

Dedalus was about to speak again, but a rustling sound behind them shut his mouth immediately. They both spun around, pointing their wands blindly into the darkness. There was another rustling, and a low growl. Paisley and Dedalus felt their blood run cold. They looked at each other, and a silent understanding passed through the blanket of darkness between them.

They were going to die.

There was a another rustling, a crunch, and then, it happened.

A grey-furred werewolf jumped out of the dark, teeth bared, aiming directly for the throat of Paisley Stone. She closed her eyes, and she thought of her son. If she was going to die, she wanted her son to be her last thought. However-

" _STUPEFY_!" Two voices shouted in unison, and two jets of bright red light hit the werewolf just in time, knocking it unconscious.

Paisley opened her eyes, looking through the darkness frantically. " _Lumos Maxima_ ," the same two voices muttered, and the faces of Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were suddenly illuminated.

Paisley let out a sigh of relief, and smiled thankfully at her two fellow Resistance members. "Thank you." She said.

Euphemia waved her hand dismissively. "Don't mention it."

Fleamont Potter and Dedalus Diggle quickly tied up the werewolf using Incarcerous. "Well, that little bugger is out of the running, aren't they?" Fleamont commented.

"Thankfully," Dedalus muttered, and then he turned to the two Potters. "How is everyone else?"

They looked at each other for a moment, and then turned back. "We don't know. We've been monitoring the outskirts, same as you." Fleamont said.

"How did they even get here?" Paisley asked. "I mean, how did no one notice an army of werewolves approaching until it was too late?"

"It's not just werewolves," Euphemia said gravely. "There are Death Eaters, too. All wearing these horrible masks and cloaks." She shivered at the thought. "Monty and I ran into a few of them on the other side of town. Not very bright, the two of them were. We took them out within seconds."

"How many?" Paisley asked, panic lilting her voice.

They both shrugged. "We dunno, we only saw the two."

Suddenly, as though on cue, they all heard a rather loud explosion. The four Resistance members looked to one another, and took off. They were dodging trees, jumping over holes in the ground and logs, running as fast as they could towards the smoke that they could see rising from the town-center of Hogsmeade.

They entered into utter chaos. There were sparks flying every which way, werewolves attacking both sides, and fire engulfing the battle scene. Dedalus, Paisley, Euphemia, and Fleamont didn't even hesitate. They jumped in, taking on four Death Eaters.

Euphemia and Fleamont were back to back, taking on two Death Eaters at once. Dedalus jumped into a duel with Edgar Bones against Rudolphus Lestrange. Paisley Stone began shooting sparks at the nearest Death Eater: Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix was cackling, her curly black hair bouncing as she jumped in excitement with every spell that she threw towards Paisley. Paisley wasn't phased by the insanity that Bellatrix Lestrange was exuding, and she was actually doing quite well in the duel. That is, until a werewolf decided to jump in.

The wolf lunged at Paisley, teeth bared, and she had no choice but to duck out of the way, giving Bellatrix leeway. She began shooting silent spells at Paisley, who was so focused on dodging the wolf that she didn't have time to dodge. Though, when the jet of green light erupted from the end of Bellatrix's wand, the wolf lunged at Paisley, and the killing curse hit it squarely in the chest.

The wolf collapsed on top of Paisley, knocking her down.

Lochland Stone saw the wolf fall on top of his wife, and he felt his blood run cold. No, it can't be. She couldn't be dead. No, no, she had to be ok. Paisley Stone had to be ok.

He fought with a renewed vigor. He was fighting for his wife. He was fighting for his son - for his son's future. Lochland Stone was going to come out of this duel triumphant if it was the last thing that he did.

Gideon and Fabian Prewett were at his sides, and they were engaged in a six-way duel. Each of the three men had two Death Eaters to take on, and it appeared that they were going to come out victorious.

Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout, Alastor Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were fighting side by side, protecting one another; being sure that none of them came out with so much as a scratch.

Amiyah Cole was dueling Rabastan Lestrange, who - like Bellatrix and Rudolphus - wasn't wearing one of the horrible Death Eater masks.

Benjy Fenwick and Caradoc Dearborn were dueling back to back, mere feet away from where Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were doing the same thing.

Albus Dumbledore was looking; searching.

He was shooting silent spells towards the werewolves, deflecting them from attacking him. He was looking for one particular person, and he wasn't willing to stop until he found them. He was passing body after body, looking with furrowed brows at the state of them. Some of them had been mutilated, others eaten, others killed with the killing curse, and some burned to death by the fires that were still raging around them. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Not impressed, old man?" A raspy voice called, and Dumbledore knew that he had found his target.

He looked up, and smiled calmly at the man before him. "Hello, Tom."

The man looked indignantly at Dumbledore. "You know as well as I that that is no longer my name." He replied coolly.

Dumbledore couldn't help but smirk at the juxtaposition of the calm conversation that he had found himself in, as opposed to the utter chaos that was unfolding around them. Voldemort began pacing in small ringlets in front of Dumbledore.

"The Ministry is on the way, Tom." Dumbledore said. "They're going to catch you, and you'll be thrown into a cell in Azkaban."

Voldemort couldn't help but laugh. "Have you learned nothing, old man?! I won't get sent to Azkaban! Your little Ministry won't catch me! I'm invincible!"

Dumbledore clucked his tongue. "No one is invincible, Tom. Death will claim you. One day."

Voldemort's mouth twisted into a smile. "Don't you see? Death won't claim me! _I am death_!"

"No one can beat death aside from death himself, Tom."

Voldemort stopped pacing, and he gave Dumbledore a menacing smirk. "We'll see, old man." Without another word, he raised his arms.

Dumbledore looked behind him, and he watched as what appeared to be at least ten bodies were hoisted into the air by seemingly nothing. Though, as Dumbledore looked closer, he could see that they were being carried up by ropes, and that the bodies weren't dead at all. They were all writhing, trying desperately to get free of the ropes that were constricting their breathing.

"Let's see what death has to say about these ones," Voldemort hissed.

Dumbledore rushed past him, waving his wand at the people hanging in the air, trying to release the ropes from whatever magic was holding them up. Voldemort watched him go, and then he turned to the battle unfolding around him. " _RETREAT_!" He called, and without a second guess, he turned on the spot and apparated away.

There was _crack_ after _crack_ as the Death Eaters apparated away, following the orders of their leader. Bellatrix gave a huff of annoyance, but she released the Cruciatus curse from Gideon Prewett and apparated away nonetheless. The werewolves were following, too. The leader - the alpha - of their pack let out a low, guttural howl, and retreated into the woods, followed by an army of hundreds upon hundreds of furry bodies.

Within seconds, the only people left in Hogsmeade were the members of the Resistance, aurors who had arrived on the scene moments before, and the occupants of Hogsmeade.

Benjy Fenwick and Edgar Bones rushed towards Dumbledore to help him release the people who were suffocating in the air. Fabian Prewett rushed to his brother, staring at him in concern as Gideon's muscles twitched and spasmed beneath his skin as an aftermath from the Cruciatus. Amiyah Cole, Alastor Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were breathing heavily, glancing at the horrid scene around them. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were hugging one another in relief, Euphemia planting sloppy kisses all over Fleamont's face. Dedalus Diggle was shaking his head, looking sympathetically at the bodies that lined the ground as he leaned down and gently closed their eyes, laying them to rest.

Paisley Stone was limping around, searching desperately for her husband. She hadn't seen him once during the battle, and she was becoming increasingly more worried with every second that passed where she didn't find him.

She was staring at the faces of every single body that she passed, hoping against hope that she wouldn't see the oh-so-familiar face of her husband. Then, she found him.

She let out a shriek of horror and dropped to her knees beside him, looking him over with shaky hands and bleary eyes. His eyes were closed, face pale, and his entire chest was completely covered in blood.

"Lochland?" Paisley choked, pushing her fingers into his neck to feel for a pulse. "Sweetheart? Lochland, please wake up. Please... please... please..." she felt a pulse. Paisley Stone thought that she may have never felt more relieved in her life.

Suddenly, Minerva McGonagall was on her knees on the other side of Lochland, looking at him with fear in her eyes. "POPPY! SOMEONE GET POPPY!" McGonagall cried, looking around the desolate battlefield frantically. "Is he... he's not..." she was looking directly at Paisley.

Paisley shook her head. "He has a pulse." She said.

McGonagall let out a sigh of relief, however her worry truly didn't die down. Neither did Paisley's. They were both staring at the amount of blood which was still seeping out of him, frozen.

Paisley was the first to act.

She tore open the buttons of his shirt, and she let out an audible gasp when she saw the state of her husband's chest. There were three deep, long claw marks that stretched across his torso, and they were absolutely gushing with blood. Paisley began to shake her head, her hands trembling.

"No," she whispered, and she looked to McGonagall, who was equally shocked.

"SOMEONE GET POPPY! NOW!" McGonagall shouted.

Milo Black was sitting on the couch in his London flat, staring at the wall in front of him. The wall was completely covered in Daily Prophet articles, photos of victims, facts that he knew about Voldemort, and arrows connecting events with people with intents. It was his work over the past year. That wall, everything on it, was what Milo Black had spent the entire last year of his life doing.

He took a sip of his coffee, letting out a sigh of relief at the warmth that cascaded down his throat and into his stomach. Some of the coffee dribbled from the lid and into his thick beard, which he quickly wiped off.

To anyone else, Milo Black's life had completely and utterly fallen apart.

His face was sallow and sunken in, his body much thinner than it had been before. His black hair had grown out past his shoulders, and was now almost permanently tied up into a bun on the back of his head. His beard, while it wasn't long, was still rather thick; he just couldn't find it in himself to exude the effort that it took to shave his face completely. He had permanent bags beneath his eyes, and his lips lived in a constant, chapped state.

His flat was a mess. It was by no means a big apartment, for Milo definitely wasn't the richest of men. He had spent the last of he and Penelope's life savings on the flat; he couldn't bring himself to live in their house. Though, he couldn't bring himself to be rid of it, either. So, he kept it.

Milo Black hadn't seen anyone in the Resistance since the day that Penelope died. None of them had reached out to find him, either. In fact, as far as he knew, everyone but Dumbledore probably assumed him dead.

Milo leaned back on the couch, and his eyes drifted across the wall. He stopped on a small corner, and he felt a pang in his chest. That corner was where he kept anything and everything that he knew about Sirius and Regulus Black - about his two cousins. He wanted so desperately to be close with the two of them, but he knew that he couldn't do that without putting all three of them into danger. So, he kept track of them. Tried to be sure that they were ok, that they were safe.

It was while he was looking at this wall that anything out of the ordinary happened.

A silvery-white phoenix came soaring into Milo's sitting room, and perched itself on the arm of his couch. Milo looked at the bird in shock, but this shock quickly turned to annoyance - Dumbledore's Patronus was a phoenix. Though, why he had felt the need to send one to Milo quickly became more important, and his expression turned to one of interest.

The phoenix opened its beak, and Dumbledore's warm voice began to speak through its mouth. "Hogsmeade has been attacked," Milo let out a worried gasp, "we need you to come immediately." The phoenix turned to mist and evaporated before his very eyes.

Milo sat on his couch in silence, thinking. He took one last glance at the wall, took in all of the most important information, and grabbed his jacket.

Dumbledore was staring gravely at the bodies which were lined up on the ground in front of him, the expressions of their shock and fear still etched into their pale faces. Dedalus, Amiyah, and Moody were all staring at them, too. They had managed to get the people from the air, but the ropes that had been magically tied 'round their necks couldn't be loosened. They had all suffocated slowly, painfully, while the members of the Resistance were forced to sit back and watch.

McGonagall appeared at his side, her trembling hands a shade of crimson. "Lochland Stone has been taken to the infirmary," she said, her voice just as unsteady as her hands.

Dumbledore turned to her in shock. "What's happened?"

"A scratch. A very bad, very deep scratch."

"He's alright?"

McGonagall nodded. "For now. Paisley is with him. I was going to go fetch Benjamin and-" she stopped when she noticed how vigorously Dumbledore had started to shake his head. "Why not?"

"Not until the morning. Let the boy rest." As soon as the last word had escaped from his lips, there was a _crack_ behind him.

All five of the adults turned 'round, and their eyes landed upon the disheveled and tired looking ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. McGonagall let out a shocked gasp, and she rushed towards him.

"Mr. Bell! What are you-" she began, but Milo cut her off by raising a hand to her.

"Please, Minerva," he made direct eye contact with Dumbledore, who was looking at him warily, "it's Black."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Whatever do you-"

"Milo Black," Alastor Moody breathed, recognition dawning on him. He gestured to Milo's left arm. "Mark?"

Milo shook his head. "Fortunately, no. I was fresh out of school when I decided to leave. Too young to be given the mark, in his opinion."

Moody nodded his head. "That why you disappeared? Wanted to conceal who you really were?" He asked gruffly.

Milo shook his head. "I never tried to conceal my identity. It was Albus's idea to change my last name."

Moody gave Dumbledore an odd look, and then turned back to Milo, his magical eye swiveling about. "Well, it's good to have you back."

Milo shook his head. "I'm not back."

"Milo-" Dumbledore began, but Milo cut him off.

" _I'm not back_. I only came because you asked. Now, if that's the only reason you asked me here, I will be returning back to my flat."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. We need your help... deciphering."

"Deciphering?" Milo asked unsurely.

It was only then that Milo realized the state that his surroundings were in. There were sobbing citizens, grotesquely disfigured or charred bodies, burned buildings, and very serious looking Ministry officials. They were standing in the middle of a battlefield as though it were nothing. He swallowed back the bile that was rising up his throat. "Why do you need me?"

"I know how good you are at piecing things together. Especially recently." Dumbledore said.

Milo Black felt anger rising up in him. "You've been watching me?"

"I had to make sure you were safe, Mr. Black." Dumbledore replied calmly. Before Milo could open his mouth to argue further, Dumbledore continued. "Let us get this over with, Milo. We want to be able to release the deceased to their families."

This piqued Milo's curiosity. What did Dumbledore mean by deceased? "What, exactly, do you need me to decipher?"

Dumbledore moved out of the way and gestured towards the lineup of bodies behind him. Milo walked past Dumbledore warily, and his eyes widened as soon as they landed upon the scene before him.

The site was so grotesque that he was forced to look away, or else risk being sick.

"Oh, Merlin." He muttered.


	44. You've Been Warned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: emetophobia

Regulus Black awoke the next day feeling incredibly ill.

At first, he thought himself sick with the flu, but he realized soon enough that it was something worse. He had a sore throat, which felt quite swollen and closed; he could barely swallow. He was shivering uncontrollably, however, when Gillian felt his forehead, she discovered that he was running a very high fever. Not only this, but he also felt quite nauseous, and he was sick two times before his three friends managed to convince him to go to the hospital wing.

Barty had to help Regulus to the hospital wing, due to the fact that Regulus was quite dizzy from the sickness that was overcoming him. When they reached the hospital wing, however, they walked into chaos.

Madam Pomfrey was rushing from bed to bed, tending to what appeared to be at least ten different people. Regulus and Barty gave each other a look, and then glanced at the people occupying the beds. They only recognized a few of them. Gideon Prewett was asleep in a bed, Fabian Prewett sitting at his bedside with a worried look on his face. Amiyah Cole was sitting up in a bed at the end of the ward, pressing the left side of her ribs tenderly. The other occupants were all people completely unknown to the boys. Though, as Regulus was glancing towards a bed, he noticed that there were two people who looked rather familiar.

The man was laying in the bed with his torso completely wrapped in bandages, and there was a woman at his side. She was clutching his hand, looking down at him in concern. Regulus furrowed his brow - they just looked _so familiar_ to him...

"Mr. Black!" Madam Pomfrey suddenly called, and every single pair of eyes in the ward turned to him in shock, fear, and worry. Regulus felt a flush creeping up his neck and, if he weren't so dizzy and sick feeling, he would have turned around and left. "What are you doing here? Is your back feeling ok? Oh, the skin hasn't melted again, has it?"

"Melted?!" The familiar looking woman exclaimed, and she looked at the boy in worry.

"No, no it hasn't. Reg isn't feeling well," Barty explained, supporting Regulus's body weight as the taller boy leaned into him from a sudden wave of nausea and dizziness.

"Whatever is the matter, Mr. Black?" Madam Pomfrey asked, pouring a potion that Regulus recognized as a pain-reliever for an unknown man.

"We dunno," Barty said, and he looked to Regulus. He could tell by the green tint to Regulus's pale skin that he probably wouldn't be able to open his mouth without throwing up all over the ward floor.

"Mr. Crouch, please set him down there," she pointed to a bed, and then rushed towards the familiar looking couple with yet another potion.

Barty helped Regulus over to the bed, and he sat him down. Regulus was relieved by the firmness of the bed, and he laid back with a thankful sigh. His throat was so sore that it felt like someone was scraping sandpaper against it every time he tried to swallow, and he had to sniffle every few seconds to keep snot from dripping down his face. Barty stood rather awkwardly at the side of Regulus's bed.

"Mr. Crouch, I apologize, but you're going to have to leave. We have too many people in here already, and Mr. Black will need rest." Madam Pomfrey called from the other side of the ward where she was tending to a rather shell-shocked looking man.

Barty sighed and looked at Regulus sympathetically. "Feel better, Reg. I'll see you later."

"See you," Regulus murmured, trying not to open his mouth too far for the fear that it would make him sick.

Barty hesitantly backed away from the bed, and he left the ward. Regulus lay in his bed for several moments, closing his eyes and enjoying the peacefulness that surrounded him. Though, it was quickly interrupted.

"MADAM POMFREY!" An all too familiar voice shouted, and Regulus's eyes shot open.

When they landed upon the source, however, he couldn't keep the gasp from escaping his lips. Though, the gasp seemed to multiply his nausea tenfold, and he quickly leaned over the edge of the bed to vomit on the floor. Everyone in the ward darted between the three boys limping into the ward, and the boy who was violently throwing up over the edge of his bed.

Sirius Black turned his head at the sound, and he wrinkled his nose at the sight of the sick which was coming from his little brother. However, when Remus Lupin let out a groan of pain, he was quickly brought back to reality. He and James Potter were supporting Remus's light-headed form on either side, trying to get him help as soon as possible. However, when they entered the ward to see how many beds were full, they were nothing less than shocked.

Remus whimpered from the pain that he was in, and James had to adjust the boy on his shoulder. "MADAM POMFREY, WE NEED HELP!" Sirius shouted again.

Madam Pomfrey finally looked up from where she was examining Amiyah Cole's ribs, and she nearly dropped her wand in shock.

Remus Lupin's face was practically torn in half. There was a long, deep scratch mark stretching from the corner of his eye all the way to the middle of his cheek. Madam Pomfrey left Amiyah immediately, rushing over to the three boys.

"Oh no, no, no, not now," she muttered, and she quickly pointed James and Sirius towards a bed where they could lay Remus.

It was also now that she realized that Regulus Black was throwing up, and she heaved a sigh of stress. "Mr. Black, I'll be with you in just a moment. Uh... oh! Paisley, would you be a doll and give Mr. Black something to be sick in, if he feels the need?"

Paisley Stone nodded her head, and she gave her husband's hand one last squeeze before standing up and bringing a bucket over to the boy. Regulus was leaned back in his bed again, breathing heavily, willing his head to stop spinning and his body to stop trembling with cold and weakness.

"Mr. Lupin, I am so sorry..." Madam Pomfrey muttered, examining Remus's face in sympathy. She clucked her tongue and used her wand to summon a jar of salve from the table beside Lochland Stone's bed. She caught the container in the air, and quickly unscrewed the lid to begin spreading the salve over his wound.

Sirius and James were standing at his bedside, looking at their friend in sympathy. Though, when they looked at one another and recognized that they were both thinking the same thing, they quickly stepped away. They walked out of the ward and into the hallway beyond, but not without Sirius sending a glare towards Regulus's bed.

When they were a safe distance away, they turned to one another. "What the hell is going on?" James asked.

Sirius shrugged. "I dunno!"

"Why was Remus going so crazy last night? What were all of those sounds? Why were there other ruddy wolves howling?!" James demanded, listing off the questions as they popped into his head. 

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know! But, I mean, look at all of the people in the bloody hospital wing! Maybe... there must've been an attack."

James nodded in agreement. "There was an attack on Hogsmeade."

Sirius glanced into the busy hospital wing, and then back to his best mate. "Well, we're lucky no one thought to hide in the Shack. I mean, we can't really explain away a werewolf, a dog, a stag, and a rat just hanging out in a supposedly-haunted house, can we?"

James chuckled. "No, no we really couldn't, could we?"

Regulus watched as James Potter and Sirius Black came back into the ward and rushed over to Remus's bedside, Peter Pettigrew at their side. If he wasn't feeling so sick, he probably would have followed or tried to discover what the two of them had been talking about. However, he truly could not find it in himself to stand up.

Madam Pomfrey gave Remus a cup of Sleeping Draught, and then rushed over to Regulus's bedside. "Sorry it took so long, Mr. Black," she said, eyeing the boy up and down and placing a cool hand on his forehead to feel his temperature.

"S'alright," he muttered.

Madam Pomfrey thought a moment. "What feels off?"

"My throat hurts a lot, and I feel really dizzy and nauseous, and I keep throwing up-" Madam Pomfrey had heard enough to know what was wrong.

"Well, Mr. Black, I'm afraid that you have a rather awful case of strep throat," she drew her wand from where she had slipped it in her pocket, and she used Lumos to illuminate the end of it. "Open your mouth."

Regulus opened his mouth, and Madam Pomfrey glanced inside. Though, when she saw the state of his throat, she quickly furrowed her brow in concern and confusion. "What on earth..."

"What is it?" Regulus asked, though he was trying to keep his mouth open, so it was hardly understandable.

She withdrew her wand from his mouth and looked him over. "It's not strep throat like I thought. You have a rather awful throat infection."

"Throat infection?" Regulus asked.

She nodded her head. "How long have you felt like this?" She asked, sorting through the potions on the nearest shelf.

"Since this morning," Regulus croaked.

She looked at him, her face one of surprise. "This morning?" Regulus nodded. "No, that can't be. Mr. Black, it looks as though this infection has been festering for days."

"I didn't feel anything," Regulus said.

She shook her head in disbelief, and quickly pulled two potions from the shelf. She poured them both out into two separate cups, and handed him the purple-looking one first. "This will kill the infection in your throat," he downed it in one go, wrinkling his nose at the taste. It was bitter, but not in the good sort-of way that coffee was. "This will be rid of the nausea and the fever." She handed him a light blue liquid.

He drank this one much more gingerly, still recovering from the taste of the last one. He was relieved to see that this one tasted sweeter, and so he began taking bigger gulps. While he was drinking this one, Madam Pomfrey poured a cup of Sleeping Draught.

Regulus sighed and felt is body sinking further into the bed as the tension and pressure left his body. He could feel the chills growing weaker, his muscles growing stronger, and the nausea fading away. Madam Pomfrey took the empty cup from Regulus's hand and replaced it with the new one. "Drink up, you'll need your rest if you want to feel better."

Regulus nodded his head, and he drank the Draught in one gulp. Regulus Black placed the empty cup on the bedside table, and he curled up into a tight ball beneath the covers of the hospital bed, feeling warmth seep into his body as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Milo Black were standing in the headmaster's office, staring at the board that they had conjured into the room in place of the desk. On the board, there were fifteen letters, all of which they had found deeply, messily, and grotesquely carved into the torsos of each and every one of the victims.

Milo Black was standing directly in front of it, tilting his head and reading the letters over again. He was subconsciously running a hand through his beard as he pondered, and the other three men were watching from behind.

Milo narrowed his eyes, a suspicion creeping up his spine. He stepped closer, reached out, and began to rearrange the letters. Moody, Dumbledore, and Kingsley all watched with interest as he moved the letters, trying to form words. Voldemort had only given them the letters, not the order of them or the words that they were supposed to form.

Milo let out a frustrated sigh, and he hit his fist against the board. "I don't know what the bloody hell they're supposed to say," he said, his voice dripping with irritation as he laid a hand across his forehead.

"We need to figure it out," Moody said gruffly, and he limped forward.

"Yeah, I know we need to figure it out. I don't ruddy well know why you're entrusting me to do it, seeing as how I'm not even a part of the stupid Resistance anymore," Milo snapped, rounding on the three men.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to fight You Know Who anymore?"

"Of course I want to ruddy fight him, but not like this. I'll fight him on my own."

"You'll die." Moody pointed out.

Milo shrugged. "Then I'll die."

"Very optimistic, this one is," Kingsley said, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Milo Black rolled his eyes and turned back to the letters on the board.

"You've been warned, Black. Don't expect me to speak at your funeral." Kingsley continued.

"Hell, probably turn out like one of these unlucky blokes," Moody said, pointing to the letters on the board. "He'd definitely want to make an example out of-"

"Sh," Milo cut him off, waving a silencing hand. He furrowed his brow in concentration, and the other three watched in amazement as he moved the letters around.

When he was finished, he backed away, reading the three words that were now displayed across the board.

_YOU'VE BEEN WARNED_

"You've been warned?" Kingsley asked, taking a step forward. "Warned about what?"

"He's been leaving messages," Milo mumbled, and he spun around so that he was facing the other three. "Those messages weren't statement, they weren't displays, they were _warnings_."

Moody scoffed. "Warnings about what?"

"The army? Him rising to power? "The time has come"? He's been warning of this attack for months!" Milo Black was pacing, the pieces seeming to fall together perfectly in his head. He stopped very suddenly. "He's going to attack them all..." he mumbled.

"Pardon?" Kingsley asked.

"HE'S GOING TO ATTACK THEM ALL!" Milo shouted, wide-eyed. "The locations! Godric's Hollow, Diagon Alley, 10 Downing Street, Hogsmeade! That's where the words were found! The messages, _the warnings_! He's going to attack the other three locations, too!"

Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley all looked at one another in concern, and then back to Milo. "So, I assume this means you want back into the Resistance?" Dumbledore asked.

Milo Black was silent a moment, and his posture straightened itself. He nodded his head stiffly. "Only until we can prevent the attacks. After that, I'm back out. Am I clear?"

Dumbledore smiled warmly at the man. "Crystal."

Benjamin Stone, Deacon Ackland, and Francesco Anderson were asleep in the common room. Benji had been so stressed out about his mum and dad that he had flat-out refused to go up to the dorm room. And Deacon and Fran were so dedicated to being sure that their friend would be ok, that they stayed up with him.

So, when Francesco awoke the last morning, to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

He was laying on the carpet in front of the fire, and he could feel his arms wrapped around something that felt quite unfamiliar. He inhaled sharply at the shock of being awake, and his head recoiled backwards. As he was awakening, and his senses were coming back to him, he could feel multiple things that he wasn't used to. First of all, there was something wrapped around his middle; he wasn't completely sure what it was, but he did know that he found it oddly comforting. Next, there was something nestled into his chest, and something tickling his neck. It was as though...

Francesco was suddenly wide awake. His eyes shot open and they landed upon the sleeping form of Deacon Ackland. Francesco's arms were wrapped around the smaller boy, holding him close. Deacon's arms had snaked their way around his waist, and he was holding on equally as tightly. Deacon's face was buried into the fabric of Francesco's top, sleeping soundly.

Francesco was suddenly made very aware of the closeness of the two. However, as much as it confused him, he wasn't uncomfortable about the gesture. In fact, he actually sort of-

He was broken from his train of thought when Benji let out a wakening groan from the carpet a few feet away from the two boys. Francesco could feel a flush creeping up the back of his neck, and he quickly began to untangle himself from the smaller boy.

In all honesty, Francesco wasn't sure how the two had ended up like that. They had fallen asleep feet apart! Had they both just subconsciously gravitated to one another? Were they closer than Francesco remembered when they had fallen asleep?

Francesco successfully - though, and he was very confused to admit it, rather reluctantly - detached himself from Deacon, and he sat cross-legged on the rug.

"Morning," Benji croaked, staring at Fran through tired eyes.

Francesco's head whipped towards Benji, and he gave him a forced smile. "Morning," he said, though his voice was much higher than normal.

Benji gave him a funny look as he sat up, stifling a yawn and scratching his head. He glanced to Deacon, who was still fast asleep on the carpet. "He still asleep?" Benji asked.

Francesco glanced at Deacon, and he noted the peacefulness of the boy's face as he slept. He looked carefree, and Francesco found himself reminiscing of the way that Deacon had looked in his sleep at the beginning of first year. Francesco was glad to see that he looked much happier.

Francesco nodded, and turned back to Benji. He eyed the blond boy warily, hoping against hope that he hadn't seen the position that Francesco had woken up in. The two boys stared at each other a minute, and, just as Benji was about to speak, the portrait hole swung open.

Both boys turned to look towards the door into the room, and their eyes landed upon Professor McGonagall, who looked very grave indeed. She spied the three boys on the carpet, and her face turned to one of sympathy when she saw Benjamin.

Benji felt his blood run cold at the site of her expression, and he could feel his face paling. He swallowed back the lump that was rising in his throat, and forced himself to speak clearly; levelly. "It's my parents, isn't it?"

McGonagall nodded her head stiffly. Benji closed his eyes, and fought very hard to keep his jaw from trembling. "Which one is it?"

McGonagall was quiet a moment. "It's your father."

Benji took a deep breath, though it felt as though the air wasn't reaching his lungs. "How? Who did it? Who killed him?"

"What?" McGonagall asked, quite taken aback by the question. Though, she quickly realized her mistake, and she waved her hands in front of herself. "Oh, no, no! Mr. Stone, I apologize for what that sounded like! No, your parents are fine. Well, your father is in the hospital wing, but I can assure you that they're both very much still alive."

Benji let out a breath of relief, but he quickly returned to his panicked state. "Why is my dad in the hospital wing?!"

McGonagall pursed her lips, and he could see her swallowing back a lump that was threatening to rise up in her throat. "Your father..." she sighed and took off her glasses, holding them in her left hand while she pinched the bridge of her nose with her right. "As I told the whole of the house last night, there was an attack on Hogsmeade. That's why your parents were here, Mr. Stone. They were helping to fight."

Benji and Francesco shared a knowing look, and Benji could see the concern with which Francesco's brow was creased. "Was he bitten?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Just scratched. Badly scratched. Both of your parents are in the ward, if you'd like to-" Benji was standing up before McGonagall had even finished.

McGonagall nodded her head, and she stepped towards the portrait hole. Before following her, Benji turned to Francesco. "Can you wake him up and meet me there? Please?" He asked.

Francesco nodded. "Of course."

Francesco watched as Benji followed closely behind Professor McGonagall. He let out a deep sigh, and he turned to the sleeping boy on the rug. Deacon had his arms wrapped tightly around himself, and he had pulled his knees up to a chest. Francesco smiled at the peacefulness that had found a home on his face, and he debated for a few brief moments on whether or not to let him sleep. However, Benji needed them, and Francesco knew this.

He reluctantly reached out a hand, and placed it gingerly on Deacon's shoulder. "Deacon," he whispered, shaking gently. Deacon furrowed his brow, but he did not wake. "Dea, hey, wake up," Francesco shook harder.

"No," Deacon muttered, and he coiled himself into a tighter ball.

"Dea, we need to go. Benji's dad's in the hospital wing." He said, and he used his other hand to shake Deacon ever harder.

This woke him right up. His eyes shot open, and he sat up in one swift motion, knocking Francesco's hands from his shoulder in the process. "Wha's'a matter?" Deacon slurred, his speech impaired by his exhaustion.

"Professor McGonagall said that he got scratched during the attack on Hogsmeade yesterday. She said that both of his parents are in the hospital wing right now, and he asked that I wake you up and we go see him." Francesco explained.

"Well let's go!" Deacon said, and he swiftly stood from the ground.

Though, the fast change in elevation caused his equilibrium to be thrown off quite suddenly, and he stumbled. Francesco stood up and reached out a hand to steady him, chuckling at the state of the smaller boy.

"Careful there, Dea," he said.

"Thanks," Deacon murmured.

Once Deacon had caught his balance, he looked gratefully at his friend. Francesco smiled at him, though his smile quickly faltered when he realized that his hand was still placed firmly on Deacon's arm. He dropped his hand, clearing is throat and averting his eyes.

"So - uh - do you wanna get going?" He asked.

Deacon gave him a curious look, but he didn't question the odd behavior of his friend. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

Benji entered the hospital wing right behind McGonagall, and he furrowed his brow at the site before him. Regulus Black was asleep in the bed closest to him on his right. Remus Lupin was asleep in a bed, too, with a giant scratch across his face and Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter all sitting at his bedside. Gideon Prewett was also asleep, and Fabian Prewett was speaking to Edgar Bones, who was sitting in the bed beside Gideon. Amiyah Cole was just standing from the bed at the end of the ward, thanking Madam Pomfrey for helping her. Benji recognized a few others from his parents's work parties, but they were quickly forgotten when he spotted his parents.

His mother was holding his father's hand firmly in her own, smiling at something that he had just said. Benji didn't even hesitate before rushing past McGonagall and towards the bed.

"Mum? DAD?!" Benji shouted.

Paisley and Lochland Stone looked up at the sound of their son's voice. "Hey, kiddo!" Lochland shouted, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Benji stopped at his mother's side, looking at the bandages that wrapped his father's chest with concern. "What happened?" He asked.

Lochland waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a little scratch."

Paisley rolled her eyes. "Honestly, dear, you need to stop downplaying it!" She reprimanded him.

"I'm not downplaying anything! Honestly, I feel great."

Benji and his mum shared disbelieving looks. Lochland laughed. "Look at you two." He heaved a contented sigh. "Merlin, I've missed this."

"Missed what?" Benji asked, scooting a stool towards himself and taking a seat. He slipped off the jacket that he had almost forgotten he was wearing and draped it over the rungs of the stool.

"This! Being with my family! I'll tell you, Ben, it's been right boring without you at home."

Paisley raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm boring, am I?"

Lochland was quiet. "I think I'll exercise my right to silence with this one."

Benji laughed, and Paisley rolled her eyes. Lochland was about to speak again, but he was cut off by the sound of McGonagall's shrill voice ringing through the ward.

"Mr. Anderson, Mr. Ackland! What on earth are you doing here?" McGonagall asked, and Benji looked up at once.

Francesco and Deacon were just entering the ward, side by side. Benji smiled, and he immediately stood up from his seat.

"Sorry, Professor," Francesco mumbled, and he scuffed the tip of his trainer against the floor.

"HI GUYS!" Benji said, and he rushed towards his two friends. "Can they stay, Professor? _Please_?" Benji asked.

McGonagall gave the three of them a wary look, but she nodded her head nonetheless. "I suppose..."

"THANKS PROFESSOR!" Benji shouted, and he grabbed both of his friends by the hand to drag them towards his parents. "Mum, dad, these are my friends!"

Paisley Stone stood from her chair and smiled warmly at the two boys. "Hello, it's so nice to meet the two of you. We've heard a lot." She stuck out her hand and shook both of theirs in turn.

Francesco side-eyed Benji, and then leaned over. "You didn't tell us your mum had an accent," he said.

Paisley laughed. "I'm assuming you're Francesco?"

"Yes ma'am." Francesco replied, giving Mrs. Stone a smile.

"Which means that you're Deacon," she turned to the smaller boy.

"Yeah. It's really nice to meet you," he said.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, too." She turned to her husband, who was eyeing the four forms before his bed with interest clear on his face. "This is Benjamin's father," she gestured to him.

"Hi, Mr. Stone! It's nice to meet you!" Francesco said, and he reached out a hand to shake Lochland's.

Lochland shook both of their hands, grinning from ear to ear. "It's great to meet you two as well."

The five of them were quiet a moment, and then Paisley cleared her throat. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay and get to know both of you, I'm afraid I have other business to attend to."

"Where are you going, mum?" Benji asked.

"Oh, I have a meeting with the President of Magical Congress," she said, cupping her son's cheeks in her hands and planting a kiss in the mess of blond hair atop his head. "I'll be back in a few days."

"The president?" Benji asked. "Why? Don't they, like, run America?"

"Yes, they do, which is why I have to talk to them. Head of Liaisons, remember, honey?" She leaned over the bed and gave her husband a kiss goodbye. "I'll see you in a few days."

"See you," Lochland said, giving his wife a smile.

"I'll see you in a few weeks when you return from school, my love," she said, giving her son a tight hug.

"See you, mum," Benji said, hugging her back.

"It was lovely meeting you boys," Paisley said and, without warning, she wrapped them both into a tight hug.

Deacon and Francesco were both quite shocked by the gesture at first, but they quickly hugged their best mate's mother back. She released them, gave them all a smile, and then left the ward.

It was while they were all following her with their eyes that Deacon noticed the boy who was steadily waking up in the bed at the end of the ward. He cocked his head, and an expression of confusion contorted his pale face. "Regulus?"

Francesco looked, too, and he let out a groan. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"I think Poppy said it was an awful throat infection," Lochland stated, bringing all three of the boys's attention to him. "Poor kid was sick all over the floor."

Deacon looked back at the boy with worry. "Is he alright?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Been sleeping for about two hours." Lochland glanced at the clock on the wall. "Speaking of time, don't you three have class?"

"Classes have been cancelled for the day," McGonagall called from the end of the ward where she had just gotten out of a conversation with Professor Flitwick.

"Cancelled?" Madam Pomfrey called from the other side of the ward, and she quickly shuffled over. "Whatever for?"

McGonagall shook her head indicating that she didn't know. "I'm unsure, though Professor Dumbledore is requesting that everyone meet in the Great Hall." She said the last part much louder so that all of the students in the ward could hear.

Pomfrey nodded her head, and she hurried to the side of Regulus's bed.

Regulus had just managed to roll over onto his back, his body still heavy with tiredness. "Mr. Black, I apologize, but you must get up. The headmaster is requesting that all of the students meet in the Great Hall."

Regulus groaned and covered his eyes with his palm, trying to block out the sunlight. "Do I have to?" He croaked.

"I'm afraid so. Here, let me get you some potions," she hurried to the potion cabinet near her office, passing the four Gryffindor third years on her way.

"Remus," Sirius said, gently shaking Remus's shoulder. "Remus, you gotta get up. Dumbledore wants us all in the Hall."

Remus groaned and swatted Sirius's hand away, sleepily turning his body away from him. It took much time, effort, and the work of all three boys, but Remus Lupin was eventually up and ready to leave the ward.

"Why does Dumbledore want us in the Great Hall?" Remus asked, stretching his arms up into the air and wincing at the way that yawning stretched the cut across his face.

The other three shrugged. "Dunno, McGonagall just said that classes are cancelled for the day and that Dumbledore wants us all in the hall." Peter explained.

Regulus watched the four boys leave, followed closely behind by the three second year boys. Though, as he was sipping away at the strengthening potion that he had been given, he noticed that Deacon seemed rather reluctant to leave the ward.

"Feeling better?" Madam Pomfrey asked, taking the empty cup from Regulus's hands.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. Now, off you go. Don't want to miss what the headmaster has to say, do you?"

Regulus hopped onto the floor, stumbling from the dizziness that overtook him as soon as he left the bed. Madam Pomfrey looked at him in concern, unsure how the boy was going to be able to get to the hall himself with the state he was in. Though, her question was immediately answered when someone reentered the ward.

"Ah! Mr. Ackland!" Pomfrey shouted.

Deacon looked at her in curiosity. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, Benji forgot his jacket and I said I'd come get it for him," he gestured towards the jacket that Benji had left draped across the stool beside Lochland Stone's bed.

"Oh, not a problem! Actually, Mr. Ackland, would you mind accompanying Mr. Black here to the Great Hall?"

Deacon smiled at her and scooped up the jacket from the stool. "Sure!"

"I don't need help," Regulus said, his voice suddenly quite hard and cold.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a disbelieving look and shook her head, corking the last of the potion bottles on the small table before her. "If you want to go tumbling down the stairs to the entrance hall, then by all means, don't accept Mr. Ackland's help."

Regulus thought a moment, staring at Deacon, who had a smile plastered onto his pale face. Finally, he heaved a sigh. "Fine."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Excellent. Now, off you go. Been putting it off for long enough."

Deacon watched as Regulus composed himself, obviously trying to make himself appear much stronger and healthier than he really was. He waltzed past Deacon, and then turned around to be sure that he was following him.

"Well? Are you coming?" Regulus demanded.

Deacon raised an eyebrow at him, but he followed nevertheless. The two boys walked out of the ward side by side. It was only when they were two floors below that the deafening silence was shattered.

"So, you have a throat infection?" Deacon asked.

Regulus gave him a pointed look. "Huh, how'd you guess?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Truthfully, anyone would be able to glance at Regulus for more than five seconds and know that there was something wrong. His skin was sallow, his hands trembling, lips pale, and his voice sounds hoarse and nasally. He also had to stop every few seconds to regain his equilibrium, so as to keep himself from tumbling over.

"You're very rude," Deacon said conversationally. Though, his voice wasn't accusatory - it sounded as though he were simply making an observation about the weather.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Wow, finally realized that one, did you?"

Deacon shook his head. "You weren't being this mean before."

Regulus shot him a side glare, and then turned forward again. In truth, Regulus didn't really know why he was in such a bad mood. He just passed it off as his feeling ill, but he knew that it was something bigger than that. It was the attack the night before. Regulus couldn't even imagine how many people had probably died during that attack, and he was working for the man who had done it. Regulus didn't know what to think. He didn't want to think. He wanted to go back to sleep - to reenter the only state in which Regulus Black's mind finally ceased. 

"Are you alright?" Deacon pressed.

Regulus sniffed and lifted his chin regally. "Fine."

"Whatever you say..." Deacon muttered, but he kept a very close eye on the boy beside him. "So, what did you put down for your classes next term?"

"I'm not gonna tell you." Regulus said.

"Well, I put down Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, and Divination." Regulus stopped dead in his tracks, and Deacon looked at him. "Regulus?"

"Are you serious?" He asked.

Deacon shrugged. "No, your brother is." He smiled at the look of distaste that distorted Regulus's features.

"Did you really put down those classes?" Regulus corrected himself.

Deacon nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Regulus let out an irritated groan, and he gripped the bannister of the stairs as the case began to rotate through the air. "Those are the classes that I put down."

"Really? Well, that's cool!" Deacon smiled.

"No, it's not." Regulus snapped.

Deacon sighed. "You know, you could at least _try_ to be nicer," he muttered.

"Why should I try to be nicer to _you_?" Regulus demanded.

"Because you were being nice to me before," Deacon pointed out.

Regulus rolled his eyes, and he stepped off of the staircase. Though, he was overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness, and he stumbled right into Deacon. Deacon reached out his arms to catch Regulus, and he helped steady the taller boy.

"Thanks," Regulus murmured.

"You're very welcome," Deacon replied, and he dropped his hands from where they were holding Regulus's arms.

The two were silent a moment, just looking at one another.

"Hey, Dea, there you are! We were - oh, _you're_ here." Francesco emerged from the staircase that led into the entrance hall, and his eyes landed on the two boys.

Regulus and Deacon looked away from each other quickly, and Regulus cleared his throat. Francesco stopped in front of the two boys, and he eyed them both warily before turning to Deacon. "Come on, Dumbledore's waiting for everyone."

"Ok," Deacon said, and he flashed Regulus a quick smile. "I hope you feel better."

Regulus grunted in response, and he watched as Deacon and Francesco descended into the entrance hall. Regulus followed a few feet behind, and he broke off to join his group of friends.

"Hello, Regulus! How are you feeling? Did Pomfrey know what was wrong?" Gillian asked the second that Regulus had sat down.

"She said I have a really bad throat infection," Regulus answered.

"Yeah, we can hear it," Carson said, though his voice was laced with concern. "Is it better now?"

Regulus shook his head. "While she was giving me a bunch of potions, she told me that I have to come straight back after whatever is going on here. She wants to keep me at least overnight."

"It's that bad?" asked Barty, worried.

Regulus nodded. "She said that it looked like the infection had been growing for days."

"Days?! You haven't been feeling off, have you?" Gillian asked.

Regulus shook his head. "Madam Pomfrey said that she doesn't know how it got this bad in such a short amount of time."

Down the table, Evan Rosier was grinning ear to ear. Severus Snape gave him an odd look, and then it clicked inside of his mind. He leaned in so that only the two of them would be able to hear.

"It's your fault, isn't it? That throat infection he's talking about?" Severus asked.

Evan Rosier gave him a twisted smile, and nodded his head. Severus Snape let out an irritated sigh. "And, which one of my spells did you use for this one?"

"Mighty full of yourself, aren't you, Severus?" Evan sneered, rolling his eyes. "I found it. I had my house elf fetch me a book from my house, and the spell was inside of it. And Regulus and his stupid little friends were all sleeping by the fire, so I decided to give it a little test."

"What spell?"

"Inficio."

"And it, what, give you an infection?"

Evan Rosier shrugged. "Guess so."

Regulus folded his arms on the table and buried his face into them, feeling absolutely miserable. "What does he even ruddy want us in here for?" Regulus asked, his voice muffled.

"We know about as much as you do," Carson replied.

"Hello, everyone!" Dumbledore shouted from the front of the room, as if on cue. He smiled warmly at the group of students in front of him, all of who's eyes had found their spot on him. Though, his smile quickly faded, and he gripped the edges of the podium that he was standing behind tightly. "I regret to inform you all that I have some very grave news. As I'm sure you're all aware, Hogsmeade was put under attack last night.

"The so-called "Dark Lord" sent his followers, as well as an army of werewolves, to take hundreds of innocent lives. It is disgusting, it is preposterous, and it is unjust. I can not stress enough the importance of what I am about to say. You all need to stick together. You need to watch over one another. The world that we are living in right now is a cruel one, and one can never be certain who will and will not make it out alive.

"Voldemort has more than proven how willing he is to hurt those who get in his way. Whether you be pure-blood, half-blood, or muggle-born, you are still at risk. So, I urge you all to make the right decisions. We are heading head-first into a war, and you do not want to be on the wrong side when it starts."

For once, every single mouth in the Great Hall was closed. Not even the Slytherins had any snide remarks to make about the speech that had just been given.


	45. Carson's Greatest Hits

It was their last night at Hogwarts.

Everyone in the Great Hall was absolutely ecstatic about going home. Everyone, that is, except for Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland.

Regulus didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts with his friends, not go back to the dreary and lonely confines of Number 12. Along with this, Regulus still didn't know what he wanted to do about the Dark Lord. He was still having doubts. So, so many doubts. However, Regulus was fully aware that he still had to work for the Dark Lord. He couldn't back out without risking his life, and he didn't understand if he wanted to, either. Almost every single person that he knew was working for the Dark Lord, and they all seemed ecstatic about it. Merlin, Barty was doing it willingly! He didn't need to, he wasn't being forced by his parents, nothing. He was doing it completely of his own accord. So, if Barty could be that excited and willing, why couldn't Regulus?

They had had their end of the year meeting the night previous. At this meeting, all of the groups shared what they had learned about their assigned areas. They had learned quite a lot, really. And, as far as they all knew, the Dark Lord would be using all of this information. For, unless he had changed his plans and not told any of them, then he was still fully intent on taking Hogwarts castle. When he was going to carry through with this attack was the real question. They were entirely unsure when he was planning it, and they didn't even really know if the Dark Lord himself was sure on a time yet.

Deacon didn't want to go home for similar, yet completely different, reasons. He didn't want to go home to his family. More than anything, Deacon wished that he could just stay at the castle with his friends. Merlin, how much Deacon would miss his friends. He wished more than anything that he would be able to see them over the summer, but he knew how unlikely it was. His parents would never allow him to hang out with other wizards. Ever. So, Deacon was cherishing what little amount of time he had left with his friends.

The one good thing, Deacon thought, would be that he would be able to spend the time away from Fran, and therefore, his feelings for him. Perhaps it would be easier to come to terms with the fact that they could never be together if he wasn't actually with him. At least, he hoped that that would be how it went.

The desserts disappeared from the four house tables, and everyone took that as their cue to turn their attention to the headmaster. Surely enough, Dumbledore had just stepped up to the podium at the front of the room. "Sonorous," he muttered, pressing the tip of his wand against his throat.

"Ah, the house elves have truly outdone themselves this year, haven't they?" He started, and everyone murmured their agreement. Regulus Black was so full that he felt he might just burst at the seams. "Another year has come to a close! Time has seemed to be moving rather fast this year, hasn't it?" A smattering of agreeing voices. "Now, for what I'm sure you're all waiting for. The winner of the House Cup!

"In fourth place, with 1,173 points, we have Gryffindor!" Everyone looked pointedly at the marauders, who were all smiling sheepishly. Their little April Fools prank had been enough to take so many points that they had little-to-no chance of winning the cup that year. "In third place, with 1,332 points, we have Hufflepuff! In second place, with 1,401 points, Slytherin!" Groans and sighs of disappointment travelled up and down the Slytherin table. "And, in first place, with 1,418 points, and also the winners of this years Quidditch Cup, we have Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw table applauded rather heartily while the other three applauded more out of obligation than anything. Well, at least, the Slytherin table did.

"I'm sure you're all absolutely exhausted," continued Dumbledore once the cheering had died down, "so I say off to bed with the lot of you. Go on, pip pip."

Everyone in the Hall stood from their tables and began to slowly make their way towards their common room. In truth, no one really wanted to get there. Because getting to the common room meant going to sleep, and going to sleep meant waking up tomorrow and leaving the school.

Carson, Gillian, Regulus, and Barty were all walking side by side by side by side, enjoying the presence of one another's company. Though, the silence that had settled itself comfortably between the four was suddenly broken when Carson cleared his throat.

"I'm really gonna miss you lot," he said, a sorrowful lilt to his voice.

Gillian let out a displeased sigh. "We're going to miss you more. What are we going to be without you?"

"Boring." He said matter-of-factly.

"We're funny!" Regulus said defensively.

"Yeah, alright." Carson said, chuckling and rolling his eyes.

" _I'm_ the one who brings all of the excitement to this group. I don't see you lot getting unjustly hexed once a week."

Carson raised an eyebrow, Gillian laughed, and Barty pointed at him. "No, he's got a point."

"Tell you what, at this point we could probably replace you with Madam Pomfrey," Gillian said to Carson.

Carson put a hand over his heart and feigned offense. "You wound me, Gill."

Gillian rolled her eyes and shoved Carson, causing him to stumble quite far to his right. All four of them laughed, and Carson looked at his friends in adoration.

"No, but seriously," he continued once they had all stopped laughing. "I'm really gonna miss you guys. I mean, it kinda sucks that we finally found a friend group like this my seventh year, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does." Regulus said sadly.

"Well, I think I can blame it on you two tossers," Carson said, stepping between Regulus and Barty and wrapping an arm around both of their shoulders in turn.

"How is it our fault?" Barty asked.

"If you two had just been born a few years earlier, maybe we could've been friends a little sooner," Carson explained.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Take it up with my parents, mate."

Carson shook his head rather vigorously. "Oh, I would rather not. I mean, your parents are kinda scary, mate. I'll be honest."

Regulus gave him an odd look. "They aren't _that_ scary..."

Even as he said it, though, he found himself doubting the statement. In all honesty, there was a reason Regulus had begged Sirius to stay instead of leaving for Hogwarts, and there was also a reason why he didn't want to go back home.

"Oh, but they are. I'll be honest, Regulus, I think I'm more scared of your parents than I am of the Dark Lord himself," Carson continued, and he shivered at the mere thought of being the blunt end of Walburga and Orion Black's anger.

"Are they really that bad?" Barty asked.

Carson looked at him with a curious expression on his face. "You haven't met them?"

Barty shook his head. "My dad's Head of Magical Law Enforcement, remember? He would practically die on the spot if I told him I wanted to hang out with the Blacks."

Carson rolled his eyes. "Your dad seems like a real arsehole, you know?"

Barty nodded. "Yeah, he is. Trust me."

By this point, the group of four had reached the common room. They entered together, Carson's arms still draped 'round the shoulders of Barty and Regulus. The common room was empty, aside from a straggler here or there.

The group of friends sat down in the seats before the fireplace, taking them all up. Gillian and Barty were sitting in the plush chairs on either side of the couch, which Regulus and Carson were taking up.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" Carson asked after a few moments of silence. He lifted his head from where it was draped over the arm of the couch.

"What do you mean?" Gillian asked, tilting her head.

"Oh, come on, it's my last day! You lot didn't think we were just going to sit in the common room all night, did you?"

"Well, yeah, we sort of did," Regulus said, raising an eyebrow.

"See! BORING! Merlin, what will you lot do without me?"

"Well, what do you have in mind?" Barty asked.

Carson was quiet a moment, and then his face seemed to light up. "I GOT IT! Get your arses up, we're going on an adventure!" He jumped up from the couch in excitement, grabbing Regulus's arm and dragging him along with him.

Regulus fell off the couch with a yell and _thump_. "What was that for?!" He asked, rubbing his tailbone.

"COME ON GUYS!" Carson shouted, ignoring Regulus's question and pulling him up from the ground.

"Where are we going?" Gillian asked him unsurely.

Carson was grinning from ear to ear. "I would like to call it, "Carson's greatest hits"." He moved his hands in front of himself as though he were unveiling a sign.

"Carson's greatest hits?" Regulus asked skeptically.

"YEAH! It'll be like a... a tour!"

"A tour?" Barty asked.

Carson rolled his eyes. "Would you guys just stop questioning me and come along? It'll be fun, I promise!"

The other three looked at one another. "Alright, let's go." Gillian sighed.

"That's the spirit! Now, come on!" He gripped Barty and Regulus's arms, dragging them along to the common room door.

"Where, exactly, are we going?" Gillian asked, following behind Carson as he led the other three through the dungeons.

"Sh! Just trust me!" He replied, turning down a dark corridor and looking over his shoulder to be sure that the others were still there.

Regulus and Barty glanced at one another, both thinking the same thing: Carson Nott had completely lost it. As far as the both of them knew, there was absolutely nothing on this side of the dungeons. No one ever ventured this far from the common room.

Though, much to their surprise, Carson knew exactly where he was going. He stopped in front of seemingly nothing, considering how dark it was in this particular part of the dungeons, and reached out a hand. Regulus thought that he was going completely insane, seeing as how it looked like he was simply grappling for something on a plain wall. So when he gripped a door handle and yanked it open, Regulus was quite shocked.

Carson gestured for his three friends to go through the door. "After you," he said.

Regulus walked through the doorway behind Gillian and in front of Barty, who had Carson trailing closely behind. Much to the surprise of the two younger students, they had walked directly into the boat dock from their first year. The three stopped walking, and Carson stepped in front of them with a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the first stop of our little tour," he gestured 'round the room. "Here, seven years ago, there stood an ickle little eleven year old waiting to start his first year of Hogwarts."

"Oh, I wonder who it was," Gillian murmured.

Carson shot her a pointed look. "Raise your hands, please, I'm giving a very important presentation here."

"Raise our hands?" Barty asked.

Carson raised an eyebrow at him.

Barty sighed and raised his hand. Carson's face broke into a wide grin, and he pointed at him. "Bartholomew?"

"Raise our hands?" He asked again, lowering his hand back to his side and ignoring the odd nickname from Carson.

"Yes, raise your hands. There are important things happening here, you lot, I can't let you distract me without a valid reason."

The other three looked at one another humorously, but they didn't interrupt Carson as he continued.

"Here stood a little first year, so nervous about starting his time at Hogwarts, missing home," he was waving his arms this way and that to add dramatics to what he was saying. "Any questions?" None of them raised their hands. "Excellent. Moving on."

He led them out of the docks, down the hall, through several twists and turns, and into a small corner of the dungeons that Regulus and Barty had never been to. "And... we've come to our next stop!" Carson announced, stopping and turning 'round to face the group of his friends. "Any guesses?"

No one raised their hands, and Carson rolled his eyes. "You lot are so boring."

Gillian raised her hand. Carson's face lit up, and he pointed at her enthusiastically. "Gilly weed?"

"Gilly weed?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes. Bartholomew and little Black have nicknames, so I believe that you're next. And besides, Gilly weed just seems to fit. Either that or Gilly bean. Your choice." Carson explained.

"I'll stick with Gilly weed, thank you very much." She said.

"Excellent choice. Now, what's your guess?"

"Guess?" She cocked her head.

"You raised your hand for a reason," he pointed out.

"Oh, right. Not a guess, just a suggestion. Can we maybe speed this up a bit? I don't know about the three of you, but I'd like to get to bed before three in the bloody morning."

Carson sighed. "Fine, if you want to ruin all of the fun like that. This little corner here is where a little second year Carson Nott first met an ickle firstie by the name of Gillian Fairman."

Barty and Regulus both looked to Gillian, who's cheeks were turning a light shade of rose. Carson was smiling fondly at her, a twinkle in his eyes. "Ah, yes. Just little eleven year old Gilly weed, sitting alone in the corner, no friends."

"Thanks," Gillian said sarcastically, though she couldn't keep the smile from her face.

Regulus raised his hand. "Little Black?" Carson called on him.

"Why was Gillian sitting alone in a corner?" Regulus asked.

Gillian groaned, and Carson pointed at him in enthusiasm. "Glad you asked! See, Gilly weed here was a little bit a loser when she first came here. Not many friends, you know. So, it was one fateful October day, and I found this little blonde girl crying all by her lonesome."

"You were crying?" Regulus asked, looking at Gillian with sympathy in his eyes.

"I was eleven!" She said defensively.

"And a beautiful friendship was born!" Carson shouted, wrapping an arm around Gillian's shoulders and pulling her into himself.

Gillian rolled her eyes and pushed him off of her, laughing. "Get off of me, you idiot."

"See! A beautiful friendship!"

The four of them laughed, and Carson began to lead them to their next stop. They walked out of the dungeons, through the entrance hall, up several flights of moving stairs, and stopped directly in the middle of one of them. His friends were all quite surprised by the sudden stop, and had to grip onto the railings of the case as it began to turn.

"This staircase, right here, is where I first met Peeves the Poltergeist." Carson said.

Barty raised his hand. "Bartholomew?"

"How is that a defining moment?" Barty asked.

"I'm glad you asked! See, Peeves is just about one of the most annoying blighters I've ever met in my life. Though, if it weren't for him, I doubt that I would have any personality at all. I'd probably be like you lot, boring and hanging onto your funny genes by a thread."

"We're funny!" Regulus said defensively.

Carson shot him a pointed look, and then looked to Gillian. "Gilly weed, I demand that you give him a detention for not raising his hand!"

"School ends tomorrow," Gillian pointed out.

"And?" Carson asked.

Gillian sighed and shook her head. "I'm not giving Regulus a detention, Carson."

Carson groaned. "No fun, I tell you. You lot are _no fun_."

"So, how did Peeves change you as a person?" Regulus asked.

"Again with the interruptions!" Carson reprimanded, clucking his tongue. "Anyways, Peeves, the man himself, got me so many ruddy detentions my third year, it was crazy. However, I would spend almost every single one with a man named Professor Leonard King."

"Professor King?" Gillian asked, recollection dawning on her face. "Why him?"

"INTERRUPTIONS!" Carson shouted, his voice echoing through the empty halls of the school.

"Shut up," Gillian hissed, glancing around frantically to be sure that Filch wouldn't come running.

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I thought we couldn't be given detentions because school ends tomorrow?" He mocked.

Gillian glared at him. "You're a child."

"You still love me." He said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Will you just keep talking so we can go to the next spot?" She asked.

"As I was saying, I spent almost every weekend of third year with Professor King. He taught me new spells, told me about places in the school from his time here that I had never even heard of, and he was one of the funniest blokes that I've ever met."

"I can see you took none of his personality." Regulus remarked.

Carson grinned and looked Regulus up and down. "Alright, little Black. Perhaps you are the funny one."

Regulus smirked in response.

The staircase returned to its normal position, and the four of them descended to the landing that they had come from. Carson was intending for the group of friends to make another stop inside of the castle, but his plan was quickly foiled when they heard the familiar echoes of Filch's gaited step.

They glanced at one another frantically. "Well, I s'pose I've always wanted to live one of those moments from books where a group of friends run through the castle together," Gillian said.

Carson grinned at her. "RUN!" He shouted, and the four of them took off.

"COME BACK HERE!" Filch shouted from behind them, and he began running after the group of them.

Though, he wasn't fast enough. Carson was leading the way, holding Gillian's hand, who was running only slightly behind him. Barty and Regulus were side by side, right next to Gillian. The four of them were laughing uproariously as they sprinted down staircases, around corners, and down long and dark corridors. They descended the case into the entrance hall, ran across the linoleum flooring, and Carson yanked open the doors out to the grounds.

It was a warm summers night. The air was hot but the breeze was cool, creating a perfect temperature balance. The wind was flowing through their hair, sending it flying behind all of them as they ran towards the Quidditch pitch.

When they finally made it, they slowed to a walk, and eventually stopped completely. Barty and Regulus both bent over, placing their hands on their knees and trying to catch their breath. Carson knotted his fingers behind his head and puffed out his chest, pacing back and forth and breathing deeply. Gillian stayed in one place, hands on her hips, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

"Alright everyone," Carson said after a few moments of the group composing themselves. "Welcome to the last step of tour à la Carson."

Barty raised his hand. "See, guys! Bartholomew here still knows his manners. You two should learn from him," he pointed to Regulus and Gillian in turn.

Barty lowered his hands and crossed his arms across his chest. "Is this really the last stop, or are you going to keep dragging us around?"

Carson put his hand on his heart, feigning offense. "I'm hurt. I don't drag you around. You're here of your own accord!"

Barty, Regulus, and Gillian all looked at one another skeptically, but they didn't say anything nonetheless.

"So, let's travel through the years, shall we?" He asked, and he led them towards the middle of the pitch. "That area, over there, by the locker rooms? That's where me, a little second year, first made the Quidditch team."

"You were on the team as a second year?" Regulus asked. Carson shot him a pointed look and stayed silent. Regulus sighed and rolled his eyes as he raised his hand into the air.

"Little Black?" Carson asked, a triumphant grin on his face.

"You were on the team as a second year?" He asked again.

"Yes, I was indeed. Imagine me, an ickle twelve year old, flying all over the pitch on my brand new broom. I tried out for Beater, you know. Obviously didn't make it, but the captain at the time thought that I had potential, so he gave me Chaser."

"You tried out as Beater?" Barty asked, shocked.

Carson nodded. "Yes, Bartholomew, I did indeed." He looked around at the three to be sure that they didn't have any questions, and then continued. He pointed to a spot a few feet behind himself. "That area, right there, is where I had my very first kiss."

Gillian groaned, and Carson smirked at her. "I was a fourth year, and we had just won the final game of the season, winning us the Quidditch Cup!" Carson was back to his dramatics, waving his hands and causing fluctuations in the tone of his voice. "And then, a little third year girl came running onto the pitch to congratulate me! And it was right there that I looked at that little wench-"

"Hey!" Gillian shouted.

"- and I kissed her!" Carson finished. "You know, you lot might know her. I believe her name was something odd like Gilly weed? Gilly bean, maybe?"

"Carson Nott, I swear to Merlin I will hex you," Gillian said, though there was laughter in her voice.

"You two kissed?" Barty asked, shocked at the revelation.

"Oh, yes, we've kissed many a time. She _loves_ me!" Carson faked a swoon, clutching his heart and resting the back of his hand over his forehead.

Gillian rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she giggled at the dramatics of Carson Nott.

"Woah, woah, woah," Barty said, motioning for the lot of them to stop with his hands. He quickly pointed between the two of them. "You two are together?"

"Yes!" Carson shouted at the same time that Gillian called out, "No!"

They glanced at one another. "We're not," Gillian said firmly. "We can't."

"We can!" Carson shouted in response.

"No, Carson, we can't! And you know that!" Gillian retorted.

"Ok, well, I don't see why we can't." He muttered, averting his eyes from hers.

"You _know_ why."

Barty and Regulus were glancing between the two of them, and they both began to shift in the uncomfortable silence that followed the miniature argument.

Carson cleared his throat after a few seconds, and he looked around. Quickly, he pointed to an area a few yards behind Barty. "That, right there, is where I discovered that I was to become Quidditch captain!"

His three friends all looked to where he was pointing, and then back to Carson. "I was fourteen," he started, resuming his happy dramatics as though nothing had happened, "and Slughorn walked up to me after our final match of fourth year, and he said, "Carson, you're the best Quidditch player in the history of Quidditch players!"-"

"He didn't actually say that," Gillian whispered to the other two.

"- and I said, "oh, I'm not," and Slughorn said, "you are! The best player in the world! The best player to ever exist!" and I said, "well, if you say so..." and then he said, "Carson, it would be the honor of Slytherin house if you would become Quidditch captain!" and I said, "well, if you insist..." and voila, a Quidditch genius was made captain!"

Regulus raised his hand. "Glad to see you finally learned your manners, little Black." Carson said, pointing at him with a smirk on his face.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Did that actually happen, or did you get a letter over the summer with your captain pin in it?"

Carson was silent a moment. "Well, ok, I guess that's not _exactly_ how it happened..."

"That's what I thought," Regulus said with a raised eyebrow.

"Moving on!" Carson said, trying to avert from the topic. He glanced around for a little bit, and his face lit up in realization. He pointed down at the ground, exactly where they were standing. "This, right here, is where I believe that I met the most important people that I may have ever met at this school."

Regulus and Barty raised their hands at the same time. "Bartholomew? Little Black?" He asked, pointing at the two of them.

"Who?" They asked in unison.

Carson's face broke into a wide grin. "Well, you two, of course!"

" _Us_?" They asked in unison once again, their voices carrying the same level of shock.

"Yeah! Why wouldn't you be? If it weren't for you two, we wouldn't be here right now! You two little tossers are the heart of the group!"

"You know, realistically, I think we have Evan Rosier to thank for it." Gillian said thoughtfully.

The three of them all snapped their heads to look at her. She threw her hands up in front of herself defensively. "Hey, don't look at me like that! I'm just stating the facts!"

"How is Evan bloody Rosier the cause of our friend group?" Carson asked.

"Well, we all started hanging out after he hexed Regulus, right? If he hadn't, who's to say we would all be friends at all!"

They all thought for a moment. "I think she's right," Barty said.

"I am." Gillian said confidently.

"Wait," interrupted Regulus, gesturing for them to stop talking with his hands, "we met in the common room?"

"Ok, technically we did, but we all technically hung out for the first time here, right? At the midnight Quidditch match?" Carson reminded him.

"I guess so," said Regulus with a shrug.

"Anymore important points?" Gillian asked.

Carson thought for a moment, and then he dropped down to the ground. Gillian, Barty, and Regulus all looked at him, and then they sat on the ground, too. The four of them were silent, staring at one another in silence, until Carson made the first move.

He laid down, head pointed towards his three friends, staring at the sky above. Gillian was next. Then Regulus. And finally, Barty. They were all laying down in a square, their heads pointing at one another, staring at the blanket of stars above.

Even as they were staring in silence, Regulus couldn't help but think that the silence that he would share with Deacon Ackland on these late nights was so much more comforting. Though, he still enjoyed the one that he was suddenly engulfed in. He felt safe, and happy, and like he had finally found a place that he could truly feel he belonged.

"You know how you asked me if I had anymore spots to go? Important memories to talk about?" Carson asked after minutes on end had passed.

"Yeah," Gillian replied.

Carson was silent a moment. "I think I'm making the last one right now."

And so, the four friends spent the rest of the night out on the pitch, bathing in one another's presence. By the next morning, when it was time for Carson to leave, none of them were truly ready. However, they had that last little bit of closure, and it was enough for them. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough.

As they split off from one another at King's Cross station, the other three stood together for a moment and watched the fourth member of their friend group depart. And just like that, there were three.


	46. The Worst Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of child abuse

It was four days after Regulus and Sirius Black's return to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Regulus awoke in the early morning of Tuesday, 25 June with a grin plastered onto his pale face. The first thing that he did that morning was check his window. Sure enough, as soon as he opened his curtains, there was an owl perched on the outside sill with a letter tied to their leg.

Regulus excitedly opened the window and untied the letter, slipping a sickle into the pouch that was tied 'round its other leg. The owl gave a thankful hoot and took off through the alleyway, and back towards the place from whence it came. Regulus was just about to close the window when five more owls came swooping down. He furrowed his brow as the owls took their place on his windowsill, all holding out their legs - he had only been expecting one letter, and he already had it in his hand.

Though, he untied the letters nonetheless. As he was untying them, he became quite confused by the fact that they had all arrived at exactly the same time. They couldn't have all come from the same person.

As the owls flew away, he stuck his head out of the window to be sure that no others were coming. When he was sure that there were no more feathery guests, he closed his window tightly and rushed enthusiastically towards his bed. What he didn't notice was one of those very same owls swooping over and landing on Sirius Black's windowsill as well, a letter attached to their other foot that Regulus had paid absolutely no mind to. He set down the five most recent additions to his letter stack, and opened the one that he had been most excited about.

Sure enough, inside held his Hogwarts acceptance letter, and his list of needed supplies. He looked it over in excitement, reading about all of the new books that he would need and making a mental note.

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 by Miranda Goshawk_   
_Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky_   
_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newton Scamander_   
_Spellman's Syllabary by Amina Hayes_   
_The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger_

Regulus was absolutely ecstatic about all of the new books that he would be getting for his new classes. Though, most of all, he was excited for Care of Magical Creatures. He had always found Magical Creatures fascinating, ever since he was a child. Truthfully, he was only taking Divination because it seemed like an easy pass, and he was only taking Ancient Runes because it was the only other interesting sounding class available. He would have much preferred Arithmancy, but it took place at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures, and there was no way that he was giving up that class for a bunch of numbers.

He placed his Hogwarts letter onto his bedside table, excitement coursing through his veins, and he moved onto the first letter in the stack beside him. When he took out the parchment within, it was to find the familiar handwriting of his best mate.

_Reg,_   
_HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I know you think that I don't know when your birthday is, but I figured it out. Why have you never told us when your birthday is? It's a little odd, if you ask me, but I digress. How's everything at home? Have you gone to any meetings with the Dark Lord yet? Merlin, I hope you have a lot to tell me on the train ride back to school!_   
_Can you believe that we're almost third years?! It's crazy! It seems like only yesterday that we met on the platform of King's Cross. Speaking of which, I already can't wait to go back! Sure, Dumbledore and all of them are ignorant and dumb, but it's still better than being in this lousy place. Though, my mum is being nice. She made me a special dinner when I came home. Dad was silent and left halfway through. Said he had "Ministry business", but I think that he just couldn't bare the thought of sitting at a table across from his practically estranged son._   
_Hope you're having a good summer! Let's do something for your birthday next year, yeah?_

_Sincerely, Barty Crouch Jr._

Regulus smiled at the letter, finding much more comfort in it than he thought he would. In truth, Regulus didn't really know why he had never told any of his friends about his birthday. Though, he suspected that it was probably because of the very boy who was sitting in his own room across the landing: Sirius Black. Sirius had always made such a big deal out of Regulus's birthday when they were kids. He would always wake him up at the crack of dawn by jumping on his bed and screaming a rather bad rendition of _Happy Birthday To You_. The two boys would spend the entire day together, playing games or eating cake or just enjoying one another's presence. Sirius Black was what made Regulus's birthdays so fun.

So, when that stopped, Regulus suspected that his enjoyment for his birthday stopped with it.

Regulus stowed the letter from Barty safely on his nightstand, and he opened the next one in the stack.

_Little Black,_   
_HAPPY BLOODY BIRTHDAY, YOU LITTLE PRAT! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US ABOUT IT? GILLY WEED AND I HAD TO FIND OUT FROM BARTHOLOMEW! WE COULD HAVE CELEBRATED EARLY! Seriously, Regulus, not cool. I love parties, and your birthday would've been the perfect excuse! Oh, how you deprive me of these things, little Black. I don't even know why I'm friends with you!_   
_Ok, time for me to be serious. Happy birthday, mate, really. Thirteen! That's crazy! It seems like only yesterday I was watching ickle baby Black and Bartholomew getting sorted. I hope you have a good birthday, and I promise that we'll celebrate next year (even if I have to sneak back onto the grounds of Hogwarts to do it). Have a good summer, and I'll see you at the next meeting._

_Carson Nott_

Regulus laughed at the letter from his friend, and he found himself smiling at the sentimentals that came with the second half. He placed the letter safely on top of Barty's, and moved onto the third.

_Regulus,_   
_HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I can't believe you didn't tell us! Carson and I found out from Barty on Saturday when he sent us both a letter about it! Is there a reason you don't like telling people about your birthday, or did it just never come up? Don't worry, if there was a reason, I get it. I didn't exactly tell anyone about my birthday until after it had passed, did I? We'll celebrate next year though, of course._   
_I hope you're having an excellent summer. I'll tell you, as much as I hate hanging out with you three idiots sometimes, I miss it a lot. I can't wait to see you and Barty when school starts up again! It'll be sad not to have Carson there, but he'll be there in spirit. Though, hopefully we'll get to hang out again at a meeting sometime over the summer!_

_Love, Gillian Louise Fairman_

Regulus was grinning from ear to ear. All three of his friends had sent him happy birthday letters, and he was over the moon about it! He now quite regretted not telling them all sooner. Though, with these three read, it still posed the question of who the other two could possibly be from.

He slipped the next one out of its envelope, and he found the familiar handwriting of one of his cousins.

_Regulus,_  
 _Happy birthday! I'm sorry that I'm not able to say it in person, but you understand, right? Lucius has been so busy with his work for the Dark Lord, and I've been helping with some of it. Believe me, I would love to be able to stop by and wish you a happy birthday, but it's just not in the cards right now, darling. I apologize._  
 _How are things? I heard that you've made friends with Gillian Fairman and Carson Nott? They're both very nice, from what I know of them, and they are also in the cards to become quite dedicated followers of the Dark Lord. I'm happy for you. They'll help you keep your mind off of Sirius._   
_I hope to be able to spend some time together over the summer. I know that you haven't spent a lot of time with Lucius, and I would really like for you two to get to know each other better. Perhaps you could come stay a few days at the Manor? Let me know._  
 _Have a good birthday, and a good summer (in case I don't see you)!_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Regulus did have to admit, spending a few days at Malfoy Manor with Narcissa and her husband did seem rather appealing. He made a mental note to bring it up with his parents later that day.

Regulus moved onto the last letter with absolute uncertainty as to who it could possibly be from. Bellatrix, perhaps? He couldn't think of anyone else who would want to write to him. So, when he pulled the letter gingerly from the envelope and saw the familiar handwriting, to say he was shocked would be an understatement.

_Dearest Regulus,_   
_Happy birthday, darling! Are you really thirteen?! That's crazy! It feels like only yesterday that me, you, Sirius, and Cissy were spending time with one another as children! Remember those days? I still miss them sometimes. I wish that I could see you in person, but I don't think that it would go over very well if I just showed up at your front door, would it?_   
_Merlin, I feel like it's been so long since we last talked! How have you been? How's everything with Sirius? Did you apologize? How are you liking Hogwarts? Are the Professors nice? Have you any friends? I just have so many questions!_   
_Actually, that's sort of why I'm writing to you. Aside from wishing you a happy thirteenth, of course! See, Ted and I were thinking of having a bit of a get together on Saturday. It wouldn't be many people, probably just you and maybe one or two others, but I would really like it if you could come. I would really, really like for you to meet Nymphadora. She's wonderful, and you two are cousins, and I would really enjoy the two of you meeting at least once._   
_If you are at all interested, meet me in front of Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley at 12 PM. I do hope you come, Regulus, I've missed you a lot._

_With love, Andromeda Tonks_

Regulus stared at the letter in shock. Of all people, he was absolutely not expecting to get one from Andromeda. He hadn't talked to her since September, and he honestly wasn't really expecting to ever speak with her again. Not that he didn't want to, it was just that he didn't really think he could.

Above all, however, Regulus was thinking about the offer that he had just been given. He did want to spend the day with Andromeda and her family, truly. He would like to get to know her daughter. Though, whether he could and whether he should were still two very important questions.

He knew that he shouldn't go spend the day with Andromeda, Ted, Nymphadora, and whoever else was going to show up. Andromeda was disowned. Andromeda was a blood traitor. Regulus could not hang out with blood traitors. But, he was hanging out with Deacon Ackland, wasn't he? Spending time with Andromeda seemed a lot more acceptable than spending time with Deacon, and if he could justify that, then surely he could justify this, too. He just needed to be sure that the wrong people wouldn't find out.

That was the other problem. How could he go? What would he tell his parents? What could he tell his parents that would be believable enough? It would have to be something that, should they want to investigate, wouldn't fall apart before his very eyes.

Suddenly, though, he was interrupted from his thoughts by a soft knocking on the door. He looked at it in curiosity. Who would knock on his door? Kreacher could just apparate right in, and surely his parents would walk in without a knock as well.

"Come in?" He called unsurely.

When the door cracked open, Regulus narrowed his eyes at the boy who entered. Sirius had his arms crossed over his chest, a letter clutched in his fist, and a grimace on his face.

"What do _you_ want?" Regulus demanded.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Says the one who let me into his bloody room."

"Says the one who came to my stupid room in the first place."

"Well, maybe if you didn't want people to come into your room, you could put a sign on your door." Sirius said sarcastically.

"Maybe I will!" Regulus shot back.

"Be my guest."

They were quiet a moment, glaring at one another. Finally, Sirius held up the letter that was still clutched tightly in his fist. "I assume you got invited, too?"

Regulus furrowed his brow, feigning confusion. "Invited to what?"

Sirius sighed in frustration. "Andromeda told me that she invited you, too. Stop trying to act confused, Regulus, you're ruddy awful at it."

"She told you that she invited me?" Regulus asked, genuinely confused this time.

"Yeah. Asked me if I would make sure that you came. So, you have to come."

"I'm not coming." Regulus said firmly, even though he hadn't fully made up his mind yet.

"Andromeda will yell at me if you don't."

"Then get yelled at." Regulus said flatly.

Sirius grimaced at him. "Will you just stop being an insufferable prat for one second? Merlin, Regulus, and you wonder why no one likes you."

"In case you haven't noticed, Sirius, I have friends." Regulus shot at him.

Sirius scoffed. "Like who? The other Slytherins? They aren't your friends, Regulus. They'll be your friends until it comes time that they can use you to get ahead. It's every ruddy man for himself in that house."

"Shut up! You don't know anything, Sirius! Just butt out of what you don't understand, Merlin." Regulus rolled his eyes and placed the letter from Andromeda with the other stack.

Sirius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Can you please just go to the stupid thing with Andromeda? Unlike you, I don't like disappointing my family."

"I'm not disappointing my family, Sirius!" Regulus shouted, and he stood up from the bed. "In fact, unlike you, I care about what they think of me! I'm not just going to... I'm not just going to abandon my family at the first sign of bloody trouble!"

"Is that what you think?!" Sirius demanded. "That I abandoned my ruddy family?! I never abandoned anyone, Regulus, I was just different! I wasn't sorted into the stupid family house, and I was disowned! I didn't abandon anyone, you all abandoned me!"

"I DIDN'T ABANDON YOU!" Regulus shouted, feeling emotions welling up inside of him.

"REALLY, REGULUS?! YOU DIDN'T ABANDON ME?! HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE STUPID SUMMER THAT I CAME BACK FROM MY FIRST YEAR, HM?! YOU HATED ME! YOU HATED ME BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT MOTHER AND FATHER TOLD YOU TO DO!"

"I NEVER HATED YOU!"

"BUT YOU DID, REGULUS!"

"I DIDN'T! I NEVER BLOODY HATED YOU, SIRIUS! YOU HAVE NO RUDDY IDEA HOW MUCH I WISH THAT I DID, BUT I DON'T!" He was red in the face, and he could feel a lump rising up in his throat.

Sirius stared at him in silence, thinking. Regulus slowly recoiled from his brother, feeling the rage turn to sadness and regret. He fought and clenched his jaw so as not to let it start trembling from the urge to cry.

Before Sirius could speak, however, a shadow obstructed the little amount of light that was flowing in from the landing. They both looked up, and they met the cold and fiery eyes of their mother and father. Both boys felt their blood run cold, and Sirius quickly shoved the letter from Andromeda into his pocket so that Orion and Walburga Black wouldn't find it.

The two Black parents stepped into the room, looking at their two sons in anger. "Would one of you like to explain what we just heard?" Walburga asked coolly.

Sirius and Regulus side-eyed one another, and Sirius instinctually stepped in front of his little brother. "Nothing that concerns you," he retorted, just as cold.

Walburga lifted her chin regally, and Orion drew his wand from his pocket. "What did you just say?" He snarled.

"I said," Sirius continued, straightening his spine and lifting his chin just as high as his mother had, "it's none of your business what we were talking about."

Orion raised his wand, and he looked over Sirius's shoulder at his youngest son. "Regulus? Care to explain?"

Regulus swallowed back the lump in his throat and, just as he was about to open his mouth, Sirius cut him off. "What part of _none of your business_ do you not understand?" Sirius asked, narrowing his eyes at his two parents.

Without so much as a second thought, Orion pointed his wand directly at Sirius, and-

" _Crucio_ ," he stated, his voice laced with fury.

Regulus watched in horror as his brother's body began to tremble and convulse with the power and passion behind the curse with which he was being tortured with. Instinctually, he reached out and grabbed his brother to help hold him up before he went tumbling to the floor. Sirius's screams were filling the room, echoing off of the walls, and engraining themselves into the very atoms that made up Regulus's bedroom.

Regulus could feel Sirius's muscles spasming beneath his skin as he fought to hold him up. It was as though the pain were radiating off of him, singeing the parts of Regulus's skin that were coming in contact with Sirius's.

Regulus wanted to help him. Merlin, Regulus really, really wanted to help him. But he didn't know what to do.

"Regulus, let him go," Orion demanded, his voice cold and flat, as though he weren't doing anything else at all. Regulus could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he heard nonetheless.

Regulus didn't let Sirius go.

"I said," Orion turned his attention to Regulus, but kept his wand carefully trained on Sirius, "Let. Him. Go. Or, would you like the curse instead? I'd be happy to oblige."

Regulus didn't know what to do. Regulus Black really, really didn't know what to do.

He let go of Sirius. He took a step back. He closed his eyes. He tried to disassociate. He tried to pretend that he was anywhere else but there. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be back at Hogwarts, with his friends, with his brother being safe and happy. However, he couldn't seem to escape the harsh reality that he had somehow found himself entrapped in.

Orion released the spell after what felt like minutes on end, and Regulus let out a breath of relief. Though, when he saw Orion raising his wand mere seconds later to resume, Regulus made the only decision that he could manage in that moment.

"Please don't!" He said quickly, stepped over his brother's trembling body and standing in front of him; it was Regulus's turn to save Sirius. "I'll do anything you want! Use it on me instead! I don't care! Just... just please don't hurt him again." Regulus begged, looking pleadingly between his two parents.

"You dare protect a blood traitor, Regulus?" Orion demanded, looking his youngest son up and down in disgust.

The words had left Regulus's mouth before he could think to stop himself. "He's my brother."

Walburga and Orion Black looked at one another, seemingly having an entire conversation with just their eyes. When they turned back to him, however, their faces were both contorted with anger and disgust.

"Get out." Orion said, though he was saying it to Sirius instead of Regulus.

Sirius was too weak to stand by himself, and Regulus recognized this. He should've left him. He shouldn't have helped him, and he knew this. However, Regulus knew that he was already in a world of trouble, and how much worse could it get, really? So, he leaned down and helped his brother stand from the ground, and he even supported him as he walked to the door of Regulus's bedroom.

As Sirius pulled himself from his brother's grip and turned 'round to face him, Regulus could see the worry and fear etched onto his face. Regulus stared Sirius directly in the eyes - eyes which were now a cold shade of grey - and he swallowed the lump that was still trying to claw its way up his throat. _"It's ok,"_ he mouthed. The worry didn't leave Sirius's face, but Regulus didn't see that, for he had already turned around to accept his fate.

As soon as Regulus was out of the doorway, Orion Black slammed the door shut with a flick of his wand. Regulus could feel dread creeping up his spine, but he somehow managed to keep himself composed.

"You do not hate your brother, hm?" Walburga asked her son as he resumed his place in front of the two of them.

Regulus knew that there was no point in lying any longer. He had already dug himself into a hole so deep, that he didn't see himself ever being able to climb out of it. "I don't." He confirmed.

"Well," Orion said calmly, cocking his head and raising his wand, "we'll just have to change that, won't we?"

Regulus had never felt pain like the one that he experienced that day. The closest that he had come was when Evan Rosier had hexed him, but even that seemed like a walk in the park compared to what he was going through in this current moment. It felt as though every single nerve ending in his body were on fire, like his muscles were being burnt to a crisp, like the very blood that coursed through his veins had been replaced with molten lava. Regulus couldn't breathe. He could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, could see his vision getting blurrier and blurrier with every second that passed. He was holding on so tightly to the part of himself that made him who he was - the part that defined Regulus Black - hoping against hope that it wouldn't slip through his grasp. Though, as the seconds passed and the pain multiplied, Regulus found himself thinking just how easy it would be to let go. For, if he let it go, perhaps he wouldn't feel the pain that his father's curse was forcing him to endure. Perhaps Regulus Black would be free. And then, just as the final threads were breaking, the pain would cease. Regulus could feel his veins filling with the liquid that was supposed to be there, could feel his frayed nerves healing themselves, could feel his muscles strengthening. He could feel his soul slipping back, and he found himself horrified at the prospect that he had been mere seconds away from letting it go.

And then, it would all start again.

For what felt like hours, Orion would cast the curse on his son and then release it, only to cast it again. And again. And again. It was a never-ending cycle of curses and rest and pain and peacefulness and terror and numbness.

Sirius Black was outside of the room, trying desperately to get inside, being forced to hear the gut-wrenching screams of his little bother. Because, above all, no matter how mad Sirius was at Regulus, he still wanted to protect him. Sirius Black would always want to protect his younger brother. Always.

But this time, he couldn't. And it made Sirius feel weak. It made him feel horrible. It made him feel angry. Above all, however, it made him feel scared - not for himself, but for Regulus. If he couldn't protect him right now, in this moment, would he ever be able to protect him again? Sirius suddenly wished that he had tried harder to convince Regulus the summer before second year. That he had just engrained the hopes and dreams and happiness and peace that came with being a Gryffindor. But, Sirius had given up on Regulus. And, even now, as he was listening to the pain and suffering that Regulus was enduring, he couldn't help but think that little bit of love that had left when Sirius gave up on Regulus - the little piece of their relationship that always kept them together, no matter what - was gone. And it was truly never coming back.

By the time it was over, Regulus had a new understanding for why Constance Selwyn had allowed herself to slip into insanity the summer before. Because, in that very moment, the prospect of the future seemed much more painful than losing himself in the present.

Orion Black lowered his wand with an exhausted sigh, and he looked at his trembling and twitching son on the floor. "Next time you think about your brother, Regulus, I suggest that you think back to this moment. I'm not past doing it again." He snarled, and he unlocked the door with the flick of his wand.

Sirius Black entered the room immediately, not even taking a second glance towards his parents as he rushed towards Regulus. Orion and Walburga sneered at him, and they left the bedroom without a word.

Regulus was staring forward with unfocused eyes, tear stains on his face, and a blank expression. At first, Sirius was terrified that Regulus had gone insane. He looked at his brothers body, and he could practically see his muscles continuing to spasm beneath his skin.

"Regulus," Sirius muttered, flattening himself onto the ground and staring directly into the unfocused, bloodshot, and stormy-grey eyes. "Regulus, are you alright?" Only once the question had left his lips did Sirius realize how stupid it was - of course Regulus wasn't alright!

"Do you need anything?" Sirius asked.

Regulus felt as though he couldn't move any part of his body, aside from the twitches and tremors that were still constantly coming. It felt as though the stage between the hot and molten liquid and his blood was a form of liquid-lead that was weighing every square inch of himself down. He also knew that he couldn't speak, for his throat was so sore that he could've sworn he had torn his vocal chords.

"Do you want some food? Or some water, maybe?" Sirius pressed.

The only thing that Regulus could do was focus his eyes on those of his brother, and nod his head ever-so-slightly. "Yeah?" Regulus couldn't bring himself to answer again, so he just stared into the eyes of Sirius, which were swimming with sympathy and concern.

"Ok, I'll get you some food and water." Sirius assured him, and he quickly stood up and rushed from the room.

Regulus saw Sirius stand up and leave, and he just laid there on the ground, still. His eyes darted around the room, trying to find something to distract himself from the searing pain that was still leaving his body ever-so-slowly. He couldn't remember being ill, but the pile of sick a few feet away from him proved him otherwise. 

As he laid alone on the floor, feeling his body still giving a reaction to the curse, Regulus Black was absolutely positive that this must be the worst birthday in the history of birthdays.

He didn't leave his room for four whole days after that, unless to go to the bathroom. He spent all of his time either sleeping, or laying in his bed and staring blankly at the air around him. Sirius would bring him food and water everyday, but would never really stay for any longer.

In truth, Sirius blamed himself. If he hadn't gone into Regulus's room, then they wouldn't have gotten into an argument. And if they hadn't gotten into an argument, then their parents wouldn't have done that to the two of them. They wouldn't have used the Cruciatus on Regulus. And he couldn't bare to be around Regulus knowing that he was the reason that he had been Crucio'd.

It was Saturday, 29 June. Regulus was laying on his side, staring at his night stand with tired eyes. He hadn't slept much the night before, because he knew what was coming that day.

Just as he expected, Sirius came knocking on his door at ten in the morning. Sirius entered the room without waiting for a response, and he walked over to Regulus's bed warily.

"Hey, Regulus," Sirius said awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers and looking nervously at his brother.

Regulus moved his gaze to Sirius. "Hi." He said, his voice barely above a whisper and hoarse with disuse.

Sirius was a little taken aback by the fact that Regulus was talking, but he didn't let it throw him off too much. "I'm leaving soon. You know, for Diagon Alley."

"Ok," Regulus said, and he averted his eyes from Sirius's.

"Do you want to come? I know that... _she_ , would really enjoy if you came."

"I can't." Regulus said firmly.

"I mean, couldn't you just tell mother and father that you're going to a friends house or something?" Sirius asked.

"No. I can't go."

"Regulus-"

"Sirius, I can't go! I'm not even supposed to be talking to you!" Regulus said, and he sat up in his bed.

"What?" Sirius asked.

Regulus let out a frustrated sigh. "If mother and father find out, they'll... they'll... you know what they'll do. So I can't go. And I can't talk to you. And I need you to just get out of my room and leave me alone. Please."

Sirius could hear the break in Regulus's voice and the fear with which it had been laced, and he knew that there was no changing his mind. Sirius nodded his head. "Ok. I'll... well, I guess I won't see you later."

Regulus watched Sirius leave his room, shutting the door firmly behind himself. Regulus sighed and laid back down in his bed, though he was wide awake and quite bored now.

"Kreacher!" Regulus called, and Kreacher appeared on the end of his bed within seconds. Regulus gave Kreacher a genuine smile - he had only talked to the old house elf a handful of times since he had returned from Hogwarts. "Hullo, Kreacher."

"Hello, Master Regulus! How is you being?" Kreacher asked, flapping his big ears happily.

"I'm ok," Regulus said, though he wasn't sure how much of that was actually true.

"Is Master Regulus be needing anything?" Kreacher asked after a few moments of silence had passed between the two.

Regulus contemplated his answers for a few seconds. "Just... just company." He finally responded.

Kreacher cocked his head. "Does Master Regulus be wanting to play a game of Gobstones?"

Regulus smiled. "I'd love to, Kreacher."

It was the next day when Sirius returned. Regulus didn't have to stand from his bed to know that Sirius was home again, for the sound of his chunky black Doc Martens clunking on the rickety stairs was enough. Though, what he hadn't expected was to hear Sirius knocking on his door mere seconds later.

"Go away," Regulus called, feeling irritation rising up inside of him. He had told Sirius that they couldn't talk, and Sirius was just disregarding it!

Though, instead of going away, Sirius opened Regulus's bedroom door and stepped inside. Regulus narrowed his eyes at him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I said go away."

"Yeah, well, I won't be long. I just need to give you this," he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and withdrew what appeared to be a folded piece of paper.

"What is it?" Regulus asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Sirius took a step forward and held it out. "Andromeda asked me to give it to you." Without further explanation, Sirius left the room, shutting the door tightly behind himself.

Regulus stared at the door for a few seconds, and then turned to the folded thing in his grip. Gingerly, he unfolded the paper, and discovered that it wasn't a paper at all. It was a picture. Well, actually, it was two pictures folded within one another.

The first one - the smaller one - was old. The photo was of Regulus and Andromeda, from when they were both younger. Regulus appeared to be around the age of four, and Andromeda looked to be eleven or twelve. In the photo, the two of them were sitting on a bench in the little square across the street. Regulus was laughing, and Andromeda was making a silly face at him. He could see that Andromeda quickly went from making funny faces to laughing uproariously, and then Sirius came in from out of the frame. The picture stopped its animation before Sirius could reach the two of them, but Regulus could remember what happened next clear as day.

_Sirius came running over to the two of them, ignoring the protest from Narcissa, who had been the one taking the photo. Sirius hopped onto the bench and plopped down beside his little brother, wrapping an arm around him and ruffling his curly black hair with is hand. Regulus was complaining, though he was still laughing nonetheless._

_Narcissa walked over to the group of them, sitting down on the bench beside Andromeda. The four Black's sat on the bench, laughing and joking around with one another. In that moment, on that day, the four of them made a promise. They made a promise that, no matter what, they would always be close. They would always be family. They would always love one another._

Little did they all know, that that promise would never last.

Regulus felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he fought to keep them in. He turned the picture over, and on the back was a little handwritten note.

_I found this in some old boxes. I thought that you might like it._

_With love, Andromeda._

Regulus put the photo down next to him, and he looked at the next one. It looked like it had been taken the day before, for Sirius was in it, and he looked the same. The photo was of Andromeda, Sirius, and Andromeda's daughter Nymphadora sitting together on the grass behind a cozy looking home. Regulus could only assume that Ted was the one taking the photo, as he was the only one not in the picture. Sirius was sitting cross legged, Nymphadora in his lap, and Andromeda smiling at her cousin and daughter. He could see Sirius and Andromeda laughing as Nymphadora changed her hair color multiple times, ranging from natural blonde to bright green. On the back of the photo, there was another note.

_Wish you could've been there today. I miss you. Hope you're doing well._

_With love, Andromeda._

Regulus grabbed the other photo, and he held them both in his hands, staring at them longingly. Regulus didn't know how to express into words just how much he wished that he could go back to those days when he was younger, the carefree days of his youth. Merlin, how much he longed to go back.

And how much he wished that he could've been there with Andromeda and Sirius and Ted and Nymphadora. He found himself wishing that things hadn't become so complicated. If Andromeda and Sirius had just stuck with the family morals, then they would be able to spend time together. They would be able to be a family. But they couldn't. And it broke Regulus's heart.

He put the pictures carefully on his nightstand, and he stared blankly at his dark green duvet. Regulus thought about what had happened on his birthday, and what his father had said to him, and he knew. He knew that he no longer had a choice. Regulus Black could either go along with his doubts and hopes and face the wrath of his parents, or he could be what they wanted him to be. He could do what they had always planned for him to do.

Regulus wanted more than anything to have both. Why couldn't he just have both? Why couldn't he have Sirius and Andromeda and be friends with Deacon Ackland _and_ do what his parents had planned for him? When did life get so complicated, so black and white, so right or wrong?

As he thought about the obvious answer - the only decision that Regulus could make - he couldn't hold it in anymore. Regulus Black began to cry.


	47. The Malfoys

_Regulus,_   
_I've talked with your parents, and they believe that it would ok for you to come spend a few days with Lucius and I! If you would like to, of course. We've organized for 16-21 July. I do hope that you come, I think that it would be a lot of fun._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Regulus read the short letter over and over again as he sat on the edge of his bed, bags already packed beside him. He was absolutely ecstatic to be spending a few days with his cousin at her new home. He would be away from his parents, away from the constant pressures that they were putting on him, and, most importantly, away from Sirius.

Kreacher suddenly appeared at the foot of Regulus's bed. "Hello, Master Regulus! Kreacher is being sent to get your things." Kreacher said, and he gave Regulus a smile which he probably thought would looked comforting.

Regulus smiled back. "Thank you, Kreacher. My bags are right here," he pointed to the three bags that were sitting on the ground.

Kreacher nodded and climbed off of Regulus's bed, gripping all three of his bags and disapparating with a snap. Regulus stood from the bed and slipped on is shoes, deducing that he would likely be leaving soon.

As Regulus reached for his wand - which was rested on his bedside table - he thought about the two photos that were stowed safely in the corner of his drawer. Ever since he had received them, he would look at them every single night before drifting off to sleep. They came as a comfort him to him. Though, they also served as a torment - they showed Regulus what he could never have.

Regulus reached for the handle of his drawer, intending to grab the pictures and bring them with him, but his bedroom door was suddenly opened. He quickly withdrew his hand from the drawer and turned around with rosy cheeks, as though he had been caught doing something.

Sirius Black stood in the door frame, looking his little brother up and down. He noticed the outfit and the shoes that Regulus was in, and he nodded his head slowly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "So, it's true then? You're going to Narcissa's?"

Regulus glared at him, also crossing his arms. "Why do you care?" He demanded.

Sirius smirked, and he held his hands up in front of himself. "Woah, calm down. It was just a question."

"Ok, well I don't need you asking me questions, Sirius." Regulus snapped.

The two brothers stared angrily at one another, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, and demeanors those of defensiveness. Regulus was the one to break the hostile silence. "Are you done, or are you blocking the ruddy doorway for no reason?"

Sirius rolled his eyes and took a step forward and off to the side, gesturing for Regulus to step out onto the old and decrepit landing beyond. "Be my guest."

Regulus made sure that he still had his wand, and he walked indignantly past his brother. Once Regulus was out of the room, Sirius followed behind, shutting the door. The two brothers crossed the landing together in silence, only splitting off when Regulus reached the stairs and began to descend the case.

The stairs were letting out groans and creaks with every step that the boy took, and Regulus was gripping onto the bannister just in case one of them decided to give out. It was only when he was a few steps down that Sirius spoke again.

"Just don't come back with a Dark Mark," he remarked, his voice laced with contempt.

Regulus let out an irritated sigh. "I'm not going to come back with a Dark Mark, you imbecile." He stated, not even bothering to turn around or stop on the stairs.

"Can never be too careful with people like you," Sirius shot back, and the next thing that Regulus heard was Sirius's bedroom door being slammed shut.

Regulus appeared at the front gates of Malfoy Manor nearly ten minutes later, Kreacher by his side. Narcissa was standing on her front porch, arms crossed over her chest, watching for her cousin. She was wearing a stone cold expression, and her light blonde hair had been pulled into a plait that hung loosely over her shoulder. When Regulus suddenly materialized at the front gates, she let a small smile cross her face and began to cross the vast yard ahead of her.

It took Regulus a few moments to steady himself when he first landed; he still hadn't truly gotten used to the landing that came with side-along apparation. By the time he had composed himself, Kreacher had gone, and he looked up and met eyes with Narcissa, who was smiling warmly at him.

"Hello, Regulus!" She said, bending down slightly to give him a hug. "Merlin, you've grown!" She held him by his shoulders at arms length and looked him over.

Regulus truly had grown. He was a few inches taller, leaving him at the moderate height of 5'7 - only three inches shorter than her. His face had lost some of its youth, and his features all appeared much sharper now than they had over Christmas. With the growth in height, he had also become much lankier than he was before; though, Quidditch had definitely helped him to get a more muscular build. His hair had grown out as well, and Walburga and Orion hadn't yet cut it, so it hung in loose and curly strands that, in some cases, hung down to his jaw.

"Hi, Narcissa," Regulus said, giving her a forced smile.

Narcissa was a little taken aback by the sound of his voice, for it had dropped a few octaves. However, one of the most prominent features were his eyes. Narcissa had always known that the Black family eyes had a habit of changing based off of ones mood. She had become accustomed to the normal greyish-blue shade of Regulus's eyes, for that's where they had rested for almost his entire life. However, over the past few years, every time she saw Regulus, she had noticed that they were slowly slipping closer and closer to being a steady, unmoving shade of cold grey. Today, they were a shade of pale blue, and Narcissa couldn't help but smile. 

"Excited?" She asked, standing up straight and placing a hand on his back to lead him into the house.

"Yeah!" Regulus said, feeling his smile become more genuine.

"Well, good. Lunch is ready in the dining room, but if you'd like to be shown to your room first that's completely fine. Kreacher brought your bags up there a few minutes ago, and I believe that Lucius sent a house elf to help you unpack your things." She led him through the great front doors and into the dark house beyond.

Regulus looked around as they passed through the halls of the house. It was rather dark and dreary, similar to Number 12. The hardwood floors creaked in certain places, and there was a smattering of dark-colored rugs absolutely covering the floor. The walls were absolutely lined in portraits of past Malfoys, as well as other members of the family. He recognized a few members that lined the walls as members of the Black family, which were all shown on the family tree in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.

"How was your birthday? Again, I'm sorry that I wasn't able to come by and see you in person, but it was a very busy day." Narcissa said, leading Regulus down a thin hallway which was full of tiny dust particles and odd artwork.

Regulus faltered in his step for a brief moment, not wanting to relive the memory of what had happened on his birthday. "Uh - it was... it was ok," Regulus said, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

Narcissa gave him an odd look, but she didn't push any further. She led Regulus through a familiar archway, and the two of them found themselves in the dining room of the Manor. The middle of the table was lined in food, and Lucius Malfoy was sitting at the head of it, his mother Helena Malfoy, sitting at the opposite side.

They both looked up at the sound of the two new members entering, and Lucius quickly stood from the table. "Hello, Regulus," Lucius said, and he walked briskly towards the two of them with a hand outstretched.

Regulus took his hand and shook it. "Hullo," he said, wincing slightly at the tightness of Lucius's grip. "You - uh - you have a nice house," Regulus continued, trying to make at least an ok first impression.

Lucius smiled at him. "Thank you, Regulus." He withdrew his hand from Regulus's and gestured towards his table. "I hope you're hungry."

Regulus nodded his head, and Lucius and Narcissa led him to a seat. Narcissa sat across from him, and she grabbed a roll from the plate in front of her. "Help yourself, Regulus," she said, noticing his hesitation.

The food, just as Regulus remembered from holiday, was much too thick and savory for his liking. He had only taken a few bites before he began to get a stomach ache, and he quickly stopped.

"So, Regulus," Lucius began, looking up from his plate at the small boy, "I hear that you have intentions of working for the Dark Lord?"

Regulus nodded his head, not daring to give a moment of hesitation. "Yeah."

Lucius nodded his head in approval. "Yes, the Dark Lord has talked about you a few times. Thinks you're going to be very useful to him."

"Really?" Regulus asked, quite shocked; he had completely forgotten about when the Dark Lord said almost those exact same words to him nearly two years prior.

Lucius nodded. "Oh, yes. Your parents have been assuring him of it, too."

Regulus felt like a pit was forming in his stomach. Of course, he always knew that his parents wanted him to become a Death Eater and to become loyal to the Dark Lord. However, hearing it actually confirmed by someone, it made Regulus feel quite... odd. He didn't want to disappoint his parents, and he knew that expressing doubts about the Dark Lord would be the biggest disappointment there was. However, that didn't mean that Regulus was happy about it.

"I will be." Regulus assured Lucius, and he gave the younger boy a look of approval.

After lunch, Helena and Lucius Malfoy bid Narcissa and Regulus adieu, and then headed to what Regulus could only assume to be a meeting with the Dark Lord. "Well, Regulus, would you like to see the room that you'll be staying in?" She asked, watching as house elves rushed into the dining room to clean up the left over lunch.

"Sure," Regulus said, and he followed Narcissa through the house.

The staircase was just as old, and therefore gave off the same groans as the ones at Number 12. She led him down the decrepit hallway, and stopped in front of a dark wood door. "Here we are," she grabbed the knob and pushed open the door, revealing a rather large room.

The floor was covered in dark green carpet, and there was a black rug beneath the bed. The bed frame was made of the same dark wood as the door, and it was covered in dark green sheets, comforters, and pillows. The same shade of dark wood was strewn throughout the room in the form of a desk, a dresser, a wardrobe, and the frame of a mirror hanging on the wall. There was also a plush-looking dark green chair in the corner of the room, just beside the large bay window. Regulus noted his bags, which were sitting on the floor at the end of the bed.

"If it's not alright, we can get you a different one. Trust me, we have multiple guest rooms," Narcissa assured him.

"No, no it's fine," Regulus said, and he walked towards his bags to begin unpacking them. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem," she smiled at him, and she walked across the room to take a seat on the ledge of the bay window. "Do you have anything that you would like to do today?"

Regulus shrugged. "Not particularly."

Narcissa was quiet a moment. "We could go into town, if you'd like."

"Wittshire?" Regulus asked, only briefly recalling the name of the small town that was closest to Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa nodded. "Lucius and his mother are going to be gone most of the day, so I thought it might be fun for the two of us to get out of the house for a few hours. I know how dark and boring it can seem here when you have nothing to do."

Regulus smiled. "Sure!"

Narcissa stood from the window. "Alright. I'll give you a few minutes to get settled. If you need to use the bathroom, you're going to walk out of the room, turn right, and it's going to be the third door on the left."

"Ok. Thank you, Narcissa," Regulus said.

"It's not a problem. I'll meet you in the entrance hall in a few minutes and we can apparate there."

"Ok," Regulus watched as Narcissa exited the room, shutting the door behind herself.

It only took Regulus two minutes to get ready. All he needed to do was neaten his hair, be sure his clothes looked alright, and grab his jacket in case the winds picked up. He draped his jacket over his shoulder, made sure he still had his wand, and exited the bedroom. Luckily, his bedroom wasn't too far away from the staircase, otherwise he suspected that he might have become lost in the long and winding corridors.

Narcissa was already in the entrance hall. She was wearing a black dress, a black overcoat, and she had taken her hair out of the braid so that it hung freely. She looked at Regulus and smiled. "Ready?" She asked.

Regulus nodded, and the two of them walked out of the front door.

Wittshire was bustling with activity. There were people flooding the streets, walking up and down the sidewalks, filling the buildings that lined the main road. Narcissa and Regulus walked through the crowd, being careful to keep each other in their sight so that they didn't get separated.

"Where are we going?" Regulus asked, noticing that Narcissa seemed to have a set location in her mind.

She looked over her shoulder and flashed him a smile. "You'll see."

She led him down the sidewalk, through several turns and crowds of busy people, and towards a large span of grass. Regulus looked around in awe at the beautiful summer day that surrounded him. The sky was blue and covered in wispy white clouds with streams of sunlight beaming down across the vast span of grass around them. There was a light breeze pushing Regulus's hair in front of his face, and several times he had to push it behind his ear.

Narcissa stopped at a bench that faced the large lake before her, and she sat down. Regulus was so engulfed in looking at the area around him that he didn't notice, and it was only when Narcissa said his name and pat the area on the bench next to her that he sat down. The two of them sat in silence, and Regulus looked at the small flock of geese that were embarking across the lake.

"This is nice, isn't it?" Narcissa asked, and Regulus nodded his head. There was another silence. "How have you been? How are you liking school?"

"I really like it," Regulus said, and he was telling the complete truth. "It's really fun. The Professors are nice, and my friends are really nice, too."

"Yes, you're friends with Carson Nott and Gillian Fairman now, right?" She asked.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, and Barty."

Realization dawned on Narcissa's face. "Right, I forgot about Barty. Is he still wanting to work for the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, yeah. He really wants to be able to come to the meetings and to meet him, but he obviously can't because of his dad and everything."

"I'll be honest, I was quite shocked when he got sorted Slytherin. Being as his dad's Head of Magical Law Enforcement and all." Narcissa commented.

"Yeah, he's not really anything like his father." Regulus said.

"Yes, I could see that during the short amount of time that I spent with him." There was another span of silence. "So, which classes did you sign up for for next term?"

"Divination, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures."

"Care of Magical Creatures?" She gave him an odd look.

He nodded. "Yeah, I've always been really interested in them. I think it'll be really fun."

"Well, if you're interested in the subject then that sounds very fun. Personally, I took Divination and Arithmancy."

"I was going to take Arithmancy, but it's at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures. Barty's taking the same classes as me, but he wanted to take Arithmancy, too."

"Why?" Narcissa asked, turning to look at her younger cousin.

Regulus shrugged. "I'm not sure. He just wants to take a lot of classes. He's very smart, you know. Guess he just wants to get a lot of O.W.L.'s or something. I guess he asked Slughorn about it, and he said that he can still take the Arithmancy O.W.L. even if he's not taking the class."

"Really?" Narcissa was quite surprised.

"Yeah. So, he said he's going to study the subject even though he's not taking the class."

"Interesting." The two of them sat and talked on the bench for a few more hours, all the way up until the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

When they returned to the Manor, Lucius and Helena had not yet returned. However, Regulus and Narcissa were both quite hungry, so they sat down to eat nonetheless. The two older Malfoys showed up halfway through, looking utterly exhausted. Helena didn't even stop for dinner, she simply went off to bed.

"How was your day?" Lucius asked, sitting at the head of the table with a grateful sigh.

"It was quite excellent, really. Regulus and I went to Wittshire and spent the day by that little lake." She replied, cutting off a bit of chicken.

"Oh, how fun." Lucius said, and he looked to Regulus. "That lake is quite beautiful, isn't it?"

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, it's great."

"How was yours, darling?" Narcissa asked, looking at her husband.

"Oh, it was alright. The Dark Lord gave mother and I some important business that we had to attend to, but it was rather easy in the grand scheme of things." He replied. "So, Regulus, I hear you're almost a third year? Time does fly, doesn't it."

"Yeah, it seems like school has been going by really fast." Regulus responded.

"And, what classes have you signed up for?"

"Divination, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures."

"Oh, how interesting! I took Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, quite fascinating subjects, they were. Ancient Runes is pretty difficult, though. If you ever need any help, feel free to write and I can do my best to be of assistance."

"Thanks!" Regulus said, a little surprised by the generosity of Lucius.

"Of course," Lucius said, and he turned back to his dinner.

Later that very night, a light knock came on Regulus's bedroom door. "Come in!" He called, finishing the last button on his pyjama top.

The door creaked open, and Narcissa stuck her head in. "I just wanted to be sure that you don't need anything before I head off to bed," she said.

Regulus smiled at her and dropped onto the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I'm alright."

She nodded her head. "Ok. If you need anything, you can just call for one of the house elves. Lucius and I have commanded them to listen to you while you're here, so you should be fine in that aspect."

"Thank you," he said.

She gave him a warm smile. "Of course. Well, I'll see you in the morning. Don't worry about waking up by a certain time, I know how tired you can be sometimes."

"Thanks, Narcissa. Really, thanks for letting me stay here and everything."

"Of course! It'll be wonderful to have someone else in the house while Lucius and his mother are away during the day."

The two wished each other goodnight, and Narcissa left Regulus alone in the dark room. He expected to have a difficult time falling asleep, but it was actually quite easy. He was out in minutes.

The next day was very similar to the first one. Regulus awoke at nine o'clock, ate breakfast, and he and Narcissa spent the day together. They played a few rounds of wizards chess, went on a short walk around the gardens of Malfoy Manor, and talked. It felt like so long since Regulus had talked this openly with someone. The last person that he talked to so easily as this was Deacon Ackland, and he hadn't had a serious conversation with the smaller boy since February or March. More than that, he wasn't even sure if he would ever be able to speak to him again. Not with the knowledge that, if his parents were to find out, his father wasn't past using the Cruciatus on Regulus for it.

Of course, he still had his friends. Though, they were often laughing and making jokes with one another. There were never really times where serious conversations would fit in. So, talking with Narcissa came as quite a relief.

The following day, Regulus awoke at half past eight in the morning. He stretched and stifled a yawn, relishing in the relaxation and stretch of his muscles. He got out of bed, his stockinged feet hitting the floor with a quiet _thump_. Regulus used the bathroom, brushed through his curly black hair, and made his way down to the dining room for breakfast.

He was still half asleep when he entered through the archway, his eyes barely open because of the yawn that he was stifling. He heard a bunch of brief and frantic whispering, though it quickly quieted when he entered the room.

"LITTLE BLACK! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE HERE?!" A familiar voice shouted, and he heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor of the dining room.

He finished yawning and opened his eyes all the way, looking at the people that surrounded the table. Narcissa and Lucius were sitting side by side across from Helena Malfoy and Wilfred Rosier. Ferula Yaxley was sitting down the table from Narcissa and Lucius, and beside them sat Rose and Hamish Selwyn. Carson Nott had been sitting between his two parents, Agnes and Bruno Nott.

Carson walked over to Regulus with a grin on his face, slapping him heartily on the back. Regulus stumbled a bit from the force with which Carson's hand hit his back, and he looked around the room in confusion. Narcissa stood from the table.

"I'm sorry, Regulus, I didn't know you would be awake yet." She walked towards him, and then turned to Carson's parents. "Would it be alright if they hung out for a bit?"

Agnes shrugged. "Sure."

Carson smiled. "Come on little Black, let's go have some fun."

"You two can go wherever, I don't think the meeting will last much longer," Narcissa told them.

Carson nodded his head, and the two of them left the dining room. "Where do you wanna go, little Black?" Carson asked.

Regulus shrugged. "The library?"

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Merlin, you're so boring."

"I am not boring!" Regulus shouted.

"Out of every single room in this house, you chose the library. I think you're pretty boring."

Regulus rolled his eyes, and he walked ahead of Carson. Despite Carson's groaning of disapproval, he followed behind the boy and the two entered the library. It looked just as magnificent as it had over Christmas the year before. The ceiling-height bookcases seemed to be lined with even more books, and Regulus stared around in awe.

Carson looked around the room, and he nodded his head in approval. "Ok, fine, I guess this room isn't _that_ boring."

"I told you," Regulus said, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"I told you," Carson mocked, and Regulus raised an eyebrow.

"Wow very mature. You're definitely acting like an adult."

Carson rolled his eyes. "You're so mean, little Black."

"Only to you." Regulus said, and Carson chuckled.

"Alright, so what are we doing? Are we just going to read like a bunch of stupid, boring people?"

"I read all the time!" Regulus said.

"Exactly. Like I said, stupid and boring."

"Yeah, and _I'm_ the mean one," he said, feigning offense.

Carson laughed, and he dropped down into a chair in the corner. "Seriously, though. Are we just going to sit in here and read?"

"No," Regulus said, sitting in a chair beside Carson, "I just don't really know where any of the other rooms here are."

"Why are you here, anyways?" Carson asked, lounging back and draping his head over the back of the chair.

"Narcissa's my cousin, and we used to be really close as kids, so she asked if I wanted to stay with her and Lucius for a few days." Regulus shrugged.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you lot were cousins." 

"Yeah. So, you know my excuse. What's yours? Why are you here?"

"Meeting. We have to discuss something."

"Oh, right. Is it only people of age, then? I know Rosier's dad is here, why isn't he?"

"It's only people involved in what's going on. Evan Rosier isn't involved in what's going on." Carson shrugged. "Besides, it's best that he's not. Little blighter would probably open his mouth and I'd have no choice but to hex him."

Regulus laughed. "Yeah, I definitely haven't missed him."

"I don't think anyone has. Besides maybe Severus Snape. They spend all of their time together, right? Reckon they're boyfriends?" Carson had a mocking smirk on his face, and Regulus laughed.

"Maybe."

"What would they be called? Everus? Sevan? Severan?" Regulus was laughing harder and harder with every relationship name that came out of Carson's mouth.

"I like Severan, personally." Regulus said once he had composed himself.

"Severan it is. I'll have to write Gill about it later."

"Speaking of Gillian," Regulus said, using the mention of their friend as leeway to his next point, "what's going on between the two of you?"

Carson was silent a moment. "What do you mean?"

Regulus side eyed him and raised an eyebrow. "You know what I mean."

"I don't." Carson said, feigning confusion.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Gillian told me that you two used to date. And she also told me that you two still like each other. And I also saw you holding hands, remember? And, not the mention, I don't think it was a coincidence that both of you were magically busy at the same time on Valentine's Day."

Carson was quiet. "Well, you also heard what she said on the pitch last month."

"About you two not being able to be together?" Carson nodded his head. Regulus sighed. "I don't understand why you two can't be together."

"I assume she told you about her arrangement to Corban Yaxley?"

"Well, yeah, she did, but-"

"But nothing. She's supposed to marry him, and there's nothing I can do about that. It sucks, but it's true."

"Ok, but she told me that it was between Corban and you! So, why can't she just marry you instead?"

"Because her parents chose Corban."

"Ok, but you're a pure-blood! It doesn't make any sense why she can't just-"

"Yeah, you're right, it doesn't make any sense. But there's nothing we can do about it." He snapped. Though, immediately after, he sighed and relaxed in his seat again. "Sorry. It's just stupid."

"Yeah, it sounds stupid." Regulus agreed. Gillian's words from months before flashed through his mind.

_It's not pretty, but it's the reality. And the reality isn't always pretty, Regulus. You need to know that._

He remembered how sad he felt for the girl after she had uttered those words, and he found himself with the same feeling towards the boy beside him. More than anything, Regulus just wanted his two friends to be happy. For, if Regulus himself couldn't be truly content, then he wanted to do everything he could to be sure that someone else felt the way that he wished he could.

Deacon Ackland had locked himself in his bedroom. He was sitting on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, listening to the fighting that was emanating from downstairs. To distract himself, he was practicing wand movements for all of the spells that he knew, keeping his eyes closed and trying to tune out the yelling.

"What are you doing?" His older brother asked, looking over from where he was sitting in his own bed a few feet away.

"Nothing," Deacon responded, but he kept moving his hand.

"Practicing more of that stupid, freaky magic?" He sneered.

"It's not stupid!" Deacon said, opening his eyes and looking at his older brother with an expression of annoyance on his face.

"Still freaky." He said in a cold tone of voice. The tone reminded Deacon of Regulus, and his longing to go back to Hogwarts increased tenfold.

"Just leave me alone, Jaxon," Deacon mumbled, and he turned forward again, wrapping his arms 'round his legs.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a _freak_ , I would." The older boy retorted, putting down the book that he was reading.

"I'm not a freak!" Deacon shouted.

"Really? How do you explain that stupid little wizard school that you go to, hm?" As if on cue, there was a tapping on the two boys's bedroom window. Both boys turned to the window, and Deacon felt relief wash over him when he saw the owl perched on the windowsill. Jaxon Ackland wrinkled his nose in distaste. "See? Only freaks get mail by owls."

Deacon ignored this remark and rushed towards the window. He slid it open, untied the letter from the owl's leg, and rubbed the top of its head for a few seconds. The owl hooted in appreciation, and then took off into the afternoon sky. Deacon turned around and dropped back onto the edge of his bed, reading the envelope.

_Deacon Ackland_   
_23 Odessa Rd._   
_London Borough of Newham_

Deacon felt his heart skip a beat at the familiar handwriting, and he quickly tore open the envelope.

_Dea,_   
_How have you been? Sorry I haven't been writing to you much, I've just been really busy._   
_I was actually writing to see if you wanted to hang out sometime soon? Mum said we're taking a day trip to London on 1 August, and I was hoping that we could spend some time together! I'd really like for you to meet my parents, I think they'd really like you. They also said that we're bringing one of my friends, and I want you to meet her, too._   
_Her name's Jasmine Palmer, and we've known each other since we were young. She's really nice, and she's super, super pretty, too! I think I might ask her if she wants to go on a date or something before I have to go back to school. She's not a witch, but mum and dad said that I could write her by sending them the owls and having them send her the letters by muggle post! Anyways, I'd like for you to meet her, too. I want to get your opinion, at least, and maybe help me come up with the best way to ask her out, too._   
_Enough about me. How have you been? I know I already asked, but I really want to know. How's everything going at home? If your parents or your stupid siblings are giving you any trouble, I could always stop by and give them a quick hex or two. Might be fun!_   
_I really hope you can come when I'm in London. I really miss you. I've written Benji, too, so maybe it could be the three of us and Jasmine! Sounds fun, right?_   
_Have fun, and stay safe!!_

_Sincerely, Francesco Anderson_

Deacon felt quite put out with the letter by the time he was done reading it, and the butterflies in his stomach had turned to knots. Of course Fran was going to start dating another girl! What else was new?

Deacon lowered the letter and dropped it onto his bed, staring at his hands which were now rested in his lap.

"What? One of your freak friends being rude?" Jaxon asked, staring with narrowed eyes at his younger brother.

Deacon shook his head. "Do you think mum and dad would let me hang out with my friends?"

His older brother laughed. "Yeah, sure. Because asking them to hang out with other bloody wizards is a good idea."

"I thought you'd say that," Deacon muttered, and he laid down, staring at the ceiling above.

Deacon was quite upset that he wouldn't be able to spend time with his friends, but secretly, he was a little relieved. He didn't think that it would be a good idea for him to spend time with Fran and his next (probably) girlfriend; especially not when it had just been made so evident that he still had feelings for him.


	48. Diagon Alley

Regulus Black awoke on 21 July feeling rather sad; it was his last day at Malfoy Manor. He hesitantly got out of bed, dressed into his normal clothes for the day, and made sure that his bags were all properly packed.

When he reached the dining room for breakfast, Narcissa smiled at him. "Good morning, Regulus! Are you ready to go?" She asked as he sat down across from her and grabbed a few waffles from the plate in the middle of the table.

"Yeah," Regulus said, though his voice was laced with much more sadness than Narcissa's.

"Well, before I take you home, I was wondering if you'd like to go to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies? I've gotten permission from your parents, and if you have your school supplies list-"

"I do!" He said, excitement coursing through his veins.

"Well, excellent! Once you're finished with breakfast, we can go straight there." She gave him a smile and stood up from the table, seeing as how she had already finished her breakfast.

"Ok! Thanks, Narcissa!" And he ate his breakfast with a renewed speed.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Regulus was withdrawing the list of needed supplies from his bag. Once he was sure that he had everything he would need, he called for Kreacher.

"Hello, Master Regulus!" Kreacher exclaimed as soon as he had apparated onto the end of the bed. "How has you been?"

"I've been very good, Kreacher! How are you?" Regulus asked, smiling at the old elf whom he hadn't seen since the day he came to Malfoy Manor.

"Kreacher has been being good! Does Master Regulus need Kreacher to take his things back home?"

"Oh, yes please, Kreacher. Thank you. Hey, when I get home later, do you maybe want to play a game of Gobstones?"

Kreacher nodded and flapped his ears happily. "Kreacher would love to, Master Regulus!"

"Ok! Well, I'll see you later, then."

"Goodbye, Master Regulus!" Kreacher said happily, and he grabbed the boy's bags to apparate them back to his bedroom at home.

When Regulus descended the staircase, Narcissa was already waiting in the entrance hall. She gave Regulus a smile, and gestured towards the front door. "Ready?"

He nodded his head vigorously, sliding his wand into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Ready!" He said.

She smiled and opened the door, leading him out into the yard where they could apparate away. They arrived inside of the Leaky Cauldron minutes later, and Regulus stumbled forwards. Oh, how he hated side-along apparation.

"Alright?" Narcissa asked, keeping her grip on his arm to help steady him.

Regulus nodded his head, though he kept his eyes closed so that he wouldn't have to see the room spinning. "Alright." He said, his voice wobbly from the nausea and twisting of his stomach.

Narcissa gave him a few moments to compose himself, and when he finally had, she led him towards the back. Regulus looked around at the groups of people behind the Leaky Cauldron, all either waiting for someone, or just chatting on their way out of Diagon Alley. When Regulus looked back, it was to see the wall in front of him slowly dismantling itself brick by brick, forming a large archway.

"Come along, Regulus," Narcissa said, and she walked into the busy alleyway beyond.

Regulus glanced at the witches and wizards that were bustling about on either side of himself, all there for different reasons. Some were just there to hang out, some were going to or coming from their jobs, some were going shopping for things that they needed around the house, and some were going shopping for school supplies, just like him. He looked around for anyone that he might recognize, but he didn't notice any familiar faces in the crowd.

"What would you like to get first?" Narcissa asked, looking at him from his right.

Regulus thought a moment. "I dunno. Whatever's easiest to get first, I s'pose."

"Would you like to get fitted for some new robes? I suspect you'll be needing some new ones with how much taller you're getting."

He nodded. "Ok. Best to get it out of the way, I guess." In actuality, Regulus absolutely hated getting fitted for new robes. It always took long amounts of time, and he got bored quite easily under normal circumstances, not to mention something that he didn't enjoy in the first place. However, he knew that Narcissa was right and that he would need to get new robes eventually, so he figured it best to get it out of the way.

Just as he suspected, it took much too long for his liking. Though, he couldn't exactly blame it on Madam Malkin, for she was truly doing her best. When it was all finished, she handed him his new sets of robes in several boxes, which she had put into a bag, and Narcissa paid her. The two left the robe shop, and they started heading absently down the alley, willing to stop at the first place that they passed which Regulus needed something from.

They stopped at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary to get the ingredients that Regulus needed to refill in his potions kit, Quality Quidditch Supplies to get him a pair of broom-handling gloves for cold weather and a new broom-servicing kit, and Amanuensis Quills for his new school stationary. Regulus thought that they were on their way to Flourish & Blotts for his new textbooks, but Narcissa stopped in front of Eeylopes Owl Emporium first. Regulus gave her a strange look, and she smiled at him.

"What? I haven't gotten you a birthday present yet, have I?" She opened the door and held it for him.

Regulus walked inside, and he stared in awe at the owls and shelves covered in various things that filled the room. There was a short wizard sitting at the front desk, filling out a sheet of paper for the customers standing in front of him. The man looked up at the sound of the bell above the door ringing, and his eyes went slightly wide. He dropped the quill immediately, and all of the customers in front of the desk turned around to look. It was a young looking red-headed couple with two sons, the older one standing on the ground between them and the younger one on his mother's hip. They had a similar reaction to the two new occupants. Regulus saw the man pull his wife and children a little closer, and he felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Black! How can I be of assistance?" The man behind the counter asked quickly.

"Oh - uh - you can finish helping them," Regulus said, taking a step back and gesturing to the couple at the counter.

The man looked at Regulus warily, but he picked up the quill nonetheless. He turned to the family and gave them a shaky smile. "And what will the owl's name be?"

"Errol!" The oldest boy called, jumping up and down with his grip tight on the edge of the counter.

"Errol!" The younger boy echoed, waving his arms about in excitement, causing his mother to have to tighten her grip on him.

Regulus began pacing the outskirts of the room as the man finished with the two people. He looked at the shelves, which were all lined with things such as owl feed and several owl care kits. Narcissa suddenly appeared next to him, and she picked up a packet of Eeylopes Premium Owl Treats.

"You're going to need these," she said, also grabbing a bag of owl feed and a small pouch which Regulus could only assume was an owl care kit.

"Here he is, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," the man at the counter said, and he handed the couple a cage with the bird inside.

"Thank you very much," Mr. Weasley said, and he and his wife turned around. "So sorry," he quickly said to Regulus and Narcissa.

"Oh, uh, it's no problem," Regulus said, and he gave them a tight lipped smile.

The Weasley's left the shop, the older boy looking curiously at Regulus before he had fully left the door. Regulus looked at the little boy just as curiously, and this caused the boy to break into a wide grin.

"Bye!" He shouted, waving at the two of them enthusiastically.

Regulus waved back, and the boy's father gripped his hand to drag him out of the shop. "Come along, Bill!" He called.

The man at the front counter turned to the two occupants. "Sorry about that! Now, what can I do for you?"

"We'd like to purchase an owl," Narcissa said, cradling the bag of owl feed and clutching the other two items tightly.

"Excellent! Do you know what kind?" He asked, his eyes darting between the two of them.

Narcissa looked at Regulus. Regulus shrugged. "I don't really mind."

The man nodded, and he stepped around the counter. "Alright, let's see. I have a tawny female, a screech male, and a barn male as well. Which one would you like?"

Regulus thought a moment, and he looked around at the three owls that the man had gestured to. As though on cue, the tawny owl swept down from the rafters and landed on Regulus's shoulder with a hoot. Regulus laughed and reached out a hand, bending his index finger in front of the owl's beak. The owl nibbled on his finger lovingly, and he smiled.

"I'd like this one, please." He said, turning to the shop keeper.

He nodded his head. "Excellent choice." He walked around the counter, and Narcissa and Regulus approached.

The owner pulled a sheet of paper from the stack beside him, and he quickly filled out the necessary information. "Name of the owner?" He asked.

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Regulus replied, absently stroking the side of the owl's head, who was still perched on his shoulder.

The shop owner scribbled that down, obviously trying to be much more frantic and quick than he had been with the Weasley's. "Alright. Name of the owl?"

Regulus looked to Narcissa for ideas. She thought for a moment. "Artemis, perhaps?" She suggested.

Regulus thought a moment, and then nodded his head. "I like it."

"Artemis?" The shop owner confirmed.

Regulus nodded his head, and he quickly scribbled it down. "Alright, I just need a signature," he passed the form across the counter and handed Regulus the quill.

_R.A.B._

Regulus wrote it down, and then handed the form and quill back to the man. He pointed to the things that Narcissa was still holding. "That too?"

Narcissa nodded, and the man thought for a moment. "Ok, that's going to be 13 Galleons."

Narcissa put the things that she was holding onto the counter and grabbed 13 Galleons from the purse on her hip. She handed them to the store owner, who took them with a forced smile. "Thank you," he said, and he turned around to put them into the money drawer, and also to grab a cage. He put it onto the counter, and then turned to get a bag for the other things that they had purchased.

Regulus held his left wrist in front of the owl, who hopped from his shoulder to the outstretched limb. He felt her talons dig into his thick coat as he moved her towards the cage. With a hoot of disapproval, she climbed onto the perch in the cage, and Regulus closed the small door.

The shop owner handed Narcissa the bag, and she took it while Regulus took the handle on top of the cage. "Have a nice day," he said.

"You too," Narcissa and Regulus chorused.

The two of the walked out of the shop, and continued down Diagon Alley. They made their final stop at Flourish and Blotts, and Regulus pulled the list of books that he needed from his pocket.

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 by Miranda Goshawk_   
_Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky_   
_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newton Scamander_   
_Spellman's Syllabary by Amina Hayes_   
_The Essential Defense Against the Dark Arts by Arsenius Jigger_

He walked through the shop, Narcissa holding his new owl while he piled his arms with the books that he needed. On he and Narcissa's way up to the front desk, Regulus noticed a book titled _House-Elves & Self-Hatred_. Regulus furrowed his brow and stopped walking, grabbing it from the shelf and opening to the front cover.

"What's that?" Narcissa asked, noticing that Regulus had stopped and turning around.

Regulus shrugged and closed the book. "Dunno." He slid the book back onto the shelf and turned to face his cousin.

"You can get it if you'd like," she offered.

He shook his head. "It's ok."

Narcissa paid for the books, and the two of them left the shop side by side. Regulus and Narcissa, having gotten all of his school supplies, made their final stop at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. When they entered the shop, an breeze of cold air wafted towards the two of them, and Regulus breathed in the delicious scent.

They walked up to the counter, and the man behind it gave them a warm smile. "Hello! What can I get for you folks today?"

"What would you like, Regulus?" Narcissa asked.

Regulus looked at the menu above the man, and he thought for a moment. "Can I just get a scoop of Butterbeer?"

The man nodded his head and turned to Narcissa. "And for you?"

"I'll just get a scoop of Strawberries and Cream, thank you." She replied.

He walked towards the glass case which was filled with all of the flavors, and Regulus watched as he grabbed two cups and scooped in their respective flavors. He walked back to the main counter, slid their cups across, and stuck in two plastic spoons. "That'll be 15 Sickles and 17 Knuts please."

Narcissa nodded and slid one Galleon across the counter. "Keep the change," she said, and she picked her cup up from the counter.

The man gave her a wide smile. "Thank you!" He said, and he cheerfully stuck the Galleon into his cash drawer.

The two of them walked outside and sat at one of the tables on the small deck overlooking the alley. Regulus set his owl cage down on the table and grabbed his spoon, taking a bite of his ice cream.

"Are you excited to go home?" She asked, taking a bite of her own ice cream.

"I guess," Regulus said, though his voice was sullen.

Narcissa gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry you couldn't stay for longer, but there's just so much going on-"

"No, no, it's ok. It was really fun." He assured her.

She smiled at him. "We'll have to do it again next summer then, won't we?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, we will!"

She laughed and took another bite, looking out at the busy alleyway. Regulus followed suit, and his eyes roved over the faces that filled the street beyond. He thought that he recognized a few people, but he was quickly proven wrong. However, when his eyes landed on the heavily scarred face of Remus Lupin, he knew that there was no way he could've been mistaken.

He slowed in his eating, and followed Remus with his eyes. Remus was trailing behind a tall looking man with greying hair and a similar facial structure who Regulus could only assume to be his father. He watched as the two of them waded through the thick crowd of people and entered the Second Hand Robes shop.

"Who are you looking at?" Narcissa asked, looking only just in time to see the back of Remus's head entering the shop.

"Huh? Oh, no one. Just thought I saw someone," Regulus said, and he took another bite of his ice cream with a smile.

Once the two of them had finished their treats, they threw away the paper cups and plastic spoons and started back towards the Leaky Cauldron. It took quite a lot of maneuvering, and a lot of worry about splinching, before the two were finally able to apparate to the front stoop of Number 12 with all of their purchases for the day.

"Would you like me to help you bring your things up to your room? Your parents aren't here," she inquired.

"My parents aren't home?" He asked, looking at the closed front door as though he was expecting one of them to open it.

She shook her head. "Lucius told me that the two of them were assigned something with him. I don't think they're going to be back for a few hours at the least."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks." She took a few bags from his arms, and the two of them entered the cold and dark confines of Number 12 - although, Regulus was much more hesitant than Narcissa was.

They walked up the rickety staircase, and as soon as they stepped onto the old landing that housed both of the Black brothers's bedrooms, Sirius's door opened. He stepped out, as though ready to interrogate Regulus, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was with him. Narcissa raised her chin and looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Sirius," she said, her voice cold.

"Narcissa," he said, his voice just as firm as hers.

The two glared at each other, and Regulus's eyes darted uncomfortably between the two of them. Narcissa was the first to break her eye contact. She sniffed regally and turned her attention to Regulus.

He took that as his cue, and he led them towards his room. When they entered, Regulus's bags were sat at the end of his bed, and a game of Gobstones was set up on the table by Regulus's window. He smiled at it, and then showed Narcissa where she could set down all of the things that she was carrying. Regulus set down his own bags, and then moved to place his new owl's cage on the windowsill.

"Well, I'd better be off. I'll see you soon, Regulus." Narcissa walked over to him and gave him a hug, which he returned.

"Bye, Narcissa. It was nice spending time with you." Regulus said, pulling away from the hug and giving her a genuine smile.

She smiled back. "It was very nice to spend time with you, too, Regulus. Goodbye," and she walked out of his bedroom.

He heard her pause on the landing again, and he could only assume that it was to send another glare Sirius's way. When he heard her descend the creaky staircase and exit the front door, he also heard the thumping of Sirius's boots as he crossed the landing. Regulus sighed, and he dropped down onto his bed as Sirius entered.

"Show me your arm." He said firmly, crossing his arms and staring at his brother with intensity in his eyes.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Even if I did have the Dark Mark, what makes you think I'm going to show you my arm just because you told me to?" Regulus asked, giving his brother an equally fiery look.

"Well, if you don't have anything to hide, then it shouldn't be a problem." Sirius shot.

"Even if I did have something to hide, you're not my ruddy father. You can't tell me what to do." Regulus shot back.

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not your father. I wouldn't use the Cruciatus on my own bloody son."

There was silence. Regulus felt his finger involuntarily twitch at the mention of the Cruciatus curse, and Sirius noticed. Sirius hadn't realized the reaction that the statement would have on his brother, and he quickly regretted it. Though, he didn't know how to take it back, so he moved on, instead.

Without warning, he stepped forward, grabbed Regulus's left wrist, and yanked up the sleeve of his jacket.

His forearm was blank.

Regulus gave Sirius a look that said _I told you so_. Sirius narrowed his eyes, but he dropped Regulus's forearm nonetheless. He didn't say anything else to his brother, just turned around and walked out of the room.

Regulus laid down on the bed, spreading his limbs and staring at the cloth that covered his four poster. He had only been back at home for less than twenty minutes, and he already longed to get away again.

It was Friday, 30 August.

Regulus's summer, following his return from Malfoy Manor, had been completely uneventful. He hadn't talked to Sirius, had barely spoken to his parents (which meant that he hadn't been punished by his parents, either, which was an absolute plus), and he had barely even left his room. He would spend all of his days using his new owl to write to his friends, or else spending the days playing games with Kreacher. When he wasn't with Kreacher, though, he spent his time reading. He had taken up reading about Legilimency - not that he had any particular use for it, he just assumed that it might be good to know. He did have to admit, it was quite nice. Though, he still missed the days that he had spent with Narcissa, and he wished that he could go back.

However, today was different.

Walburga Black had told Regulus to get dressed into something nice, which he had done without question. He was wearing a pair of black trousers, a white oxford, a black vest, and a black coat. He expected that his mother might have meant dress robes, but he didn't necessarily want to wear those. So, he stuck with the outfit that he had on.

He entered the dining room, where his mother had asked him to meet her, only a few short minutes later. She was standing behind one of the chairs, wand in hand, and a stone cold expression on her face. She looked at Regulus, and gestured for him to sit in the seat before her. He sighed, knowing what was coming, and quickly moved to sit down.

Walburga didn't really say anything, just began grabbing at the curly strands of Regulus's hair and chopping away. When she was finished, she used a spell to clean away the hair and then took a step back. "Meet your father and I in the entrance hall in ten minutes," she said, and she left the room without another word.

Regulus rushed to the nearest bathroom, which was on the first floor across from Walburga's library, and looked in the mirror. His hair was back to being short and no more than three inches long. He grabbed a strand, stretching it out and looking at how long it was straight. Not being much longer, he let it go and sighed - he had actually begun to quite like the long hair.

When he reached the entrance hall of Number 12, Orion and Walburga were waiting. "Come along, Regulus," Walburga said coldly, and she led him out onto the front stoop with Orion in front of her.

She gripped tightly onto his upper right arm and apparated them away. When they landed in front of the gates of Lestrange Manor a few seconds later, Regulus stumbled as usual. Though, Walburga didn't try to steady him like Narcissa had. No, she let his arm go and began walking briskly towards the front door, leaving her nauseas and dizzy son to compose himself.

The parlor of Lestrange Manor was full of Death Eaters. Regulus looked around, and he recognized almost every single one. He felt his blood run cold, and he could feel dread creeping up the back of his spine. Last time he had been in this room, Constance Selwyn had been tortured into insanity.

Orion and Walburga led Regulus to their normal spot, and the Black family all stopped and stared intently at the Dark Lord. He looked around at all of his followers, studying their faces and allowing a twisted smile to creep onto his pale face.

"Welcome, everyone," he said. "Let's just get straight down to business, shall we?" He stood from the chair, and he began to pace around the outskirts of the circle. "Yaxley, Macnair, I need to know everything that you know about Hogwarts."

The two soon-to-be seventh years stepped forward and began to talk. Regulus already knew everything that they were saying, seeing as how he had been present at the meetings where they had gathered the information in the first place. So, he didn't pay attention. Instead, he glanced around the circle, and his eyes landed on Evan Rosier.

Rosier was giving him a twisted smirk, and Regulus narrowed his eyes. What Regulus would've given to be able to see what he was thinking-

The books that he had been studying suddenly popped into his head, and the idea struck Regulus. If he was going to test out his skills of Legilimency on anyone, he figured that Evan Rosier would be the best bet.

So, he recalled all of the steps that he had been reading about, he stared directly into Evan Rosier's eyes, and he started to pry. It was an odd feeling at first, as though someone were going through his own thoughts and bringing them to the forefront of his mind. However, he hastily realized that what he was thinking - what he was seeing in his mind - was Evan Rosier's thoughts.

Excitement overtook Regulus. He had done it! He was reading Evan Rosier's mind! Though, when he actually tuned into the thoughts, the excitement dissipated immediately.

He saw secrets. He saw _his_ secrets. Evan Rosier knew secrets of Regulus's. So, so many secrets of Regulus's. He saw sheets of parchment. Timelines, lists, transcripts, all of it. All things about Regulus. All secrets about Regulus.

He pulled out of Evan Rosier's mind, horrified. He had seen his intention. Evan Rosier and Severus Snape were working together. They were going to gather enough dirt on Regulus to show the Dark Lord. They were going to get Regulus killed, or worse, tortured.

He had to do something.

However, when the idea struck him, he couldn't keep the smirk from quirking the corner of his lips. Rosier looked quite confused by the sudden change in mood, and he cocked his head with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

Regulus had seen Evan Rosier's hiding place.

Regulus Black was going to destroy the evidence, and Evan Rosier had absolutely no idea that he was coming.


	49. Evidence, Destroyed

King's Cross was just as busy as usual. Regulus was glancing around the platform, looking for his best mate. Walburga and Orion were walking behind them, Walburga's hands clasped firmly on Regulus's shoulders.

Regulus was careful not to look too hard around the platform. If he spotted Deacon Ackland, he didn't know how he would react. And if Walburga or Orion sense that Regulus was being civil with a mudblood like Deacon, Regulus didn't put it past them to Crucio him on the spot. So, he gave up looking for Barty after only a few short minutes.

Sirius was walking beside Regulus, though quite far away from his parents themselves. When Walburga and Orion stopped walking to say goodbye to Regulus, Sirius slipped away. Regulus looked at his parents, his spine as straight as can be.

"Have a good year, Regulus," Walburga said, though her voice was cold and hard.

"I will, mother." Regulus responded, trying to keep his voice as imperial as can be.

"Remember what I said about your brother, Regulus." Orion said in a low, menacing tone of voice.

Regulus felt a shiver run down his spine, and the muscles in his back twitched involuntarily from the mere memory of the curse that his father was threatening him with once again. "Yes father," he said, just barely managing to keep his voice steady.

Orion nodded his head stiffly, and he raised his chin so that he was staring down his nose at his youngest son. Regulus took this as his cue, and he quickly turned 'round and began pushing his trolley down the platform. He had to maneuver his way through several groups of people, and he passed a few people whom he vaguely recognized.

"Oh, hullo, Regulus," someone said from beside him, and Regulus quickly turned his head to the left.

Deacon Ackland was standing there, a small smile on his otherwise rather pale face. Regulus looked the boy over, and he realized that he looked almost exactly the same as he had the summer before. He was thinner, paler, and his face looked more sunken in than the end of the year. He had dark rings around his eyes, and his hair was a shaggy, curly mop atop his head with several strands hanging in front of his eyes.

Regulus murmured a greeting, intending to just keep walking without giving the boy so much as a recognition. Though, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the state of the boy.

Deacon noticed, and he began to shift his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably. "Yeah - uh - didn't have a very good summer," he mumbled.

Regulus nodded his head slowly, and he met eyes with the boy. Aside from the poor state of him, Deacon looked quite a bit older. His facial structure itself was different, making him look much older. His features appeared to be sharpening and maturing, losing their baby-like nature. He was also taller. From what Regulus could tell, Deacon must've been about 5'6, for he was barely two inches shorter.

"Me neither." Regulus said, unsure where the sudden honesty had come from.

Deacon cocked his head and furrowed his brow in concern. "I'm sorry."

Regulus shook his head. "Don't be."

Though, he was suddenly made aware of the fact that he was talking to a muggle-born on a public platform, where his parents were probably still standing mere yards away. He felt fear dripping down his spine, and he turned away from Deacon and hurried off without another word. Deacon watched him curiously, but he shrugged the encounter off and returned to searching for his friends.

Regulus dropped his back off at the loading compartment, though he kept his book bag and owl cage with him; the cage was empty, for he had sent Artemis to fly to Hogwarts that morning. It took a few minutes of searching, but he eventually spied the formal and stern looking Bartemius Crouch, and his son directly beside him.

Regulus debated for a moment on whether or not he should go meet Barty that close to his father, or if he should just wait. Before he could come to a decision, however, Barty left his dad and began pushing his cart to the luggage drop that Regulus was standing beside. Regulus smiled at his best mate, and he waved to get his attention.

"Hi Reg!" Barty said enthusiastically, pushing his cart a little faster so as to reach his friend sooner.

"Hi Barty!" Regulus said with just as much enthusiasm.

"How was your summer?" Barty asked as Regulus turned around and began walking beside him.

"My summer was ok. How was yours?" Regulus asked.

Barty shrugged. "It was alright, I guess."

Regulus frowned. "Was your dad being stupid?"

Barty nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, but what's new?"

"I'm sorry, Barty."

Barty waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine. Have you seen Gillian yet?"

Regulus shook his head. "No. I was looking for you and her, but I haven't seen her yet."

"Maybe she's in a special meeting or something," Barty suggested, unloading his trolley with the help of Regulus.

"A meeting for what?"

"She's Quidditch captain, isn't she? I'm pretty sure that the captains usually have meetings on the express."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense."

Barty nodded and grabbed his book bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Ok, do you wanna go find a compartment?"

Regulus nodded, and they began their search.

The four marauders were sitting in their normal compartment, laughing and chatting away. When they felt the train lurch forward, Sirius took that as the cue that no one would be by to bother them for a while. So, he stood up, locked the compartment door, and slid down the curtain shade.

The three others looked at him curiously, but Remus was the first one to catch on. "Your parents?" He asked.

Sirius nodded, and he dropped back into his seat on the bench which was directly across from Remus. "What'd they do this time?" James asked.

"Was it the Cruciatus again?" Remus asked before Sirius could get a single word out.

Sirius nodded, checked the compartment door one last time just to be sure, and then darted his eyes between the other three. "They used it on Regulus, too."

"What?!" The other three chorused, a mixture of shock and worry.

"I thought he was like, your parents's star child?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, he is." Sirius said. "But, I don't know, they just... they just used it on him. It was... guys, it was really bad." Sirius's voice was growing lower and lower by the second, and the other three had to lean in to hear him.

"How bad?" Remus asked cautiously.

"They held it on him for a really long time. Like, a _really_ long time. Well, not consecutively, but it was in intervals. For a long time."

"Is he ok?!" James asked, his voice laced with concern.

Sirius shrugged. "I think so. I mean, he's not crazy if that's what you mean." Sirius paused, and let out a sigh. "Guys, it was my fault."

"What do you mean it was your fault?" Remus asked, his brows creasing in confusion.

"I mean just what I said. It's my fault. It was his birthday, and-"

"Woah, woah, woah," James said, holding his hands up to stop Sirius and draw the attention of the other three onto himself, "they used the Cruciatus on him on his _birthday_?"

Sirius nodded sullenly. "Yeah. Anyways, I told you lot that I went to visit Andromeda over the summer? Well, she invited Regulus, too. And so, I went into his room on his birthday to ask him if he was going, and then we got into this big fight-"

"A fight about what?" Peter pressed.

"Regulus just said that I was abandoning my family and stuff, so I said that I never abandoned them and that they all abandoned me. Then we started yelling at each other about how Regulus hates me, and then Regulus said that he didn't hate me-"

"Yeah, I could've told you that one, Pads." Remus muttered. "It's kind of obvious that he doesn't actually hate you."

"Ok, whatever, not the point," Sirius said, waving a dismissive hand. "Anyways, then my parents heard and they came in, and then I stood in front of Regulus because, I don't know, habit I guess-"

"This one," Remus said, pointing to Sirius and shaking his head in disbelief.

"-and then they used the Cruciatus on me-"

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH," James said, interrupting Sirius yet again.

Sirius didn't take notice. "-and then my father stopped, and he was going to do it again, and Regulus stepped in front of me - dunno why, probably just to make himself feel like a good person-"

"He's unbelievable," said Remus, exasperated.

"-and then my parents kicked me out of the room, and I heard them say something to Regulus about not hating me, and then Regulus said that he didn't, and then he just... there was just... _screams_."

The compartment was silent. The four marauders were looking around at one another uncomfortably, and Peter shifted in his seat. "Well," Remus said, trying to break the tension that had settled itself between them, "you had a pretty eventful summer then, didn't you?"

Regulus finished telling Barty about his summer, carefully leaving out a few set details. He left out everything about the Cruciatus, his conversation with Carson at Malfoy Manor, and the things that he had seen when he read Evan Rosier's mind. However, everything that he had to tell him aside from that was enough to take up more than half of the train ride back to Hogwarts. Barty's synopsis of the summer was much shorter than Regulus's, seeing as how he hadn't really done much aside from ignore his father.

Just as he was finishing with his explanation, their compartment door was slid open. "Hello, you two!" Gillian said excitedly, plopping down beside Barty on the bench.

"Hi, Gillian!" The boys chorused.

"How was your guys's summers?"

"They were ok," Barty said with a shrug.

Regulus nodded in agreement. "Well," Gillian began, lounging back on the bench and looking between her two friends, "I have some things to tell you."

Deacon Ackland was sitting in the corner of the compartment, knees pulled up to his chest, staring blankly out of the window. Francesco and Benji were excitedly reliving their summer to one another, apparently not noticing the silence of their friend. Deacon let out a sigh and closed his eyes, burying his face into his knees.

"Dea? You alright?" Francesco asked, looking at his friend in concern.

"Fine," Deacon replied, his voice muffled by his knees.

Fran and Benji looked at one another, and then back to their friend. "How was your summer?" Benji asked, scooting a little bit closer to Deacon on the bench.

Deacon looked up at them, his eyes bloodshot and heavy from tiredness. "Not vey good," he said honestly.

"Was it your parents?" Fran asked.

Deacon nodded, and he gave the two of them a small smile. "It's alright, though. At least we're going back to school."

"What'd they do?" Fran asked, completely ignoring Deacon's statement.

Deacon shrugged. "Usual, I guess." He murmured, and he began to pull absently at the loose threads in the hem of his jumper sleeve.

"Ok, well what's _usual_?" Benji asked, sounding equally as concerned.

Deacon shrugged again. He didn't answer their question, and that was answer enough for the two of them. They looked to each other once again, and then back to their sad and exhausted looking friend.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come with you guys, by the way." Deacon said, looking between the two of them with an apologetic look about his face.

"It's ok," Fran assured him. "We wish you could've been there, though."

"Yeah, me too."

Deacon and Fran looked at one another in silence for a few moments, both staying completely still. Deacon noted the small flecks of brown in his otherwise black eyes. Fran noticed the sharper and older looking features on the boy's face. Deacon was the first to look away, and Francesco felt a twisting of disappointment in his stomach. Fran continued to watch the boy for the rest of the train ride, trying to discern a feeling which he could not quite place.

Hogsmeade station was packed with students, all rushing to get a carriage together. Regulus, Barty, and Gillian waded through the crowd side by side, careful to not get separated. Luckily, they were one of the first groups to make it, and they got a thestral-drawn carriage all to themselves.

On the way to the school, they chattered away about what they were excited for for the following year. They talked about Barty and Regulus's extra classes, about the N.E.W.T.'s that Gillian would be taking that year, and about Quidditch. Gillian told Regulus about the date that she was planning to hold tryouts, though she was very adamant that Regulus wouldn't need to try out for Seeker; she was absolutely positive that there wouldn't be anyone at the school who was better at playing Seeker than he was.

By the time they had all left the carriages and filtered into the Great Hall, everyone was absolutely starving. However, Regulus knew that the sorting still had to take place before the meal, and he was particularly miserable.

All throughout that years's sorting, Regulus was glancing around the room and scanning the faces of all of its occupants. Deacon Ackland looked exhausted, hungry, and bored. Francesco Anderson and Benjamin Stone were watching the sorting with enthusiasm, muttering guesses to one another about which student would go where. The four marauders were all talking amongst themselves, chuckling quietly at what the others were saying. Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary Macdonald were watching the sorting, though they weren't making guesses like the two third year boys. Lottie Burton, Lennox Wright, and Natalia Byrne looked bored out of their minds, and they were all looking longingly at the empty plates before them. Emerson Reid was chatting away with a boy beside him. Clementine Bates was talking to a girl across the table from her, but Regulus couldn't see the girl's face - she was back-to the Slytherin table.

Finally, the sorting ceased, and Regulus let out a sigh of relief. He looked across the table where Gillian was sitting, drumming her nails absently on the tabletop. She noticed Regulus's eyes on her, and she gave him a smile.

"What's up?" She asked.

Regulus shook his head. "Nothing. Just thinking," he shrugged.

"Me too," she replied.

Regulus gave her a tight lipped smile, and then he glanced down the length of his own house table instead of analyzing the occupants of the others. He recognized almost every single face at the table, aside from a select few from various different years. Though, most of his attention was spent on the forms of Evan Rosier and Severus Snape.

They were both whispering to one another, glaring down the table. Regulus glared right back, and then he quickly turned back to his two friends; he didn't want to accidentally give away too much to the two other students. His plan to destroy everything that they had against him was still in full swing, he just needed to find the right time.

"Let the feast begin!" Dumbledore shouted from the front of the room, and with the clap of his hands, all four house tables were absolutely covered in plates of steaming hot food.

Regulus didn't hesitate. He began piling his plate with all kinds of food, and his two friends did the same time. He bit into a freshly baked roll, enjoying the taste as the doughy bread practically melted in his mouth.

The three friends barely even spoke during the entirety of dinner, they were all so famished. Though, when they were all so full that they felt they might be sick, they stopped and looked around at one another.

"Well, I definitely missed the food," Gillian said.

Barty and Regulus nodded their agreement. "The house elves here are like no others." Barty added.

"They probably have some special Hogwarts magic or something that makes the food way better." Regulus suggested, half joking.

The desserts vanished from the middle of the table before any of the three could say anything further. They all looked up at the front of the room with the feeling that Dumbledore was about to begin his speech, and sure enough, the old headmaster was standing behind the gold podium with a warm smile on his face. He brought his wand up to his throat and used the Sonorous on himself.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome back to another year at Hogwarts!" The student body began to applaud, and Dumbledore looked gleefully between the four house tables. "Now, we have a few start of term announcements to get through before I send you off to bed.

"First and foremost, I would like to remind you all that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden. If any student is found sneaking in or out, there will be consequences. Second, I would also like to remind you that the Whomping Willow is to be avoided at all costs. The tree is very violent, and can not always discern a threat from a peace offering. Third, Filch has asked me to remind you all of his banned objects list. A new copy can be found on his door.

"Now, I believe that a quick introduction is in order." Dumbledore gestured back to the teachers table, and a man stood up. He looked to be about mid-30's with a rather muscular build. He was tall, tan, and had a mess of blond hair that reached down to his shoulders. He smiled at the students, raising a hand and waving to the four tables in turn. "This is Professor Nicholas Wilson, and he will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"What happened to Professor Cole?" A Ravenclaw boy shouted.

"Yeah! I liked her!" Called the Hufflepuff Prefect.

"Amiyah Cole resigned at the beginning of the summer. She believed that she had too much business left at the Ministry, and therefore had to choose which job she preferred."

Professor Wilson sat back down, and Dumbledore smiled. "I believe that that is all for tonight. Have a good night, everyone, and I will see you all in the morning!"

Everyone immediately stood from their house tables and began shuffling out of the hall. Prefects were calling for their newest house additions, the Head Boy and Head Girl were standing on either side of the exit doors, glancing around to be sure that everyone was exiting in an orderly fashion. Regulus, Barty, and Gillian walked side by side by side, none of them having the energy to start a conversation.

When they reached the common room, they broke off and headed up their respective staircases. Within minutes, Barty and Regulus had changed into their pyjamas, said goodnight, and laid down comfortably in their beds. Though, Regulus didn't fall asleep. He fought with himself to stay awake, waiting for the opportunity that he knew would come eventually.

And, just as he had hoped, it did.

He heard the creak of Evan Rosier's mattress as he lifted it, the sliding of papers beneath it, and the closing of the dorm room door mere seconds later. Regulus laid still for a few minutes, just to be completely sure that Evan Rosier was actually gone.

When he was positive, he quietly climbed out of his own bed, crossed the room, and gingerly lifted the mattress. Sure enough, there was a thick stack of parchments and papers just beneath his mattress - the same stack that Regulus had seen in Evan Rosier's mind. Without second guessing, he snatched the papers and dropped the mattress back into the bed frame.

Though, when he actually had the papers in his possession, he realized the lack of a plan which he truly had. How was he going to be rid of them? Where could he get rid of them? He needed to do it as fast as possible, or else risk Evan Rosier discovering that they were gone before they were destroyed.

It hit him, and Regulus didn't wait to act. He hurried to the dorm room door, snuck out as quietly as possible, and darted down to the bathroom. Luckily, there was no one inside, but he didn't want to risk it, either. He walked briskly to one of the shower rooms, stepped inside, and locked the door behind himself.

Before ridding of the papers, Regulus tore off a corner that he was sure had no actual evidence on it, and threw the rest of them onto the ground. He shoved the corner into the pocket of his pyjama trousers, drew his wand, and pointed it at the stack.

" _Incendio_ ," he muttered, and flames burst from the tip of his wand.

He watched as the edges of the paper curled and singed, turning to ash before his very eyes. Watching the papers burn - getting the confirmation that they were really gone - allowed Regulus to let out a breath of relief which he had been holding in since he had first discovered that they existed.

He waited until the fire was out and the pages were completely gone before exiting the bathroom and quietly sneaking back into the dorm. With a smirk on his face, he drew his wand, used Lumos, and held it between his teeth as he quickly scribbled a note on the torn corner of paper.

_Better luck next time, Rosier._

_R.A.B._

He padded silently across the room, slid the note under the mattress in place of the stack of papers, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Milo Black entered Albus Dumbledore's office, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. McGonagall, Moody, and Kingsley were all standing around the headmaster's desk, whispering to one another. When Milo entered, however, they ceased.

"Hello, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, standing from his desk with a jovial expression about his face.

Milo grunted a greeting a dropped into the seat to the left of the door. "Why did you ask me here?" He asked, his head lolling to the side as he closed his eyes.

"It's the full moon tomorrow," Dumbledore stated.

"I've noticed."

"Are you ready?" Moody asked gruffly.

Milo opened his eyes and looked in disbelief between the four people in front of him. "Rubbing it in, are you?" He snapped.

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked.

Milo stood from the chair and crossed his arms. "I was wrong, alright? I get it."

"What makes you say that?" McGonagall asked.

"There were no attacks over the summer. None. Voldemort misdirected us, and it worked."

"We don't think he misdirected us." Dumbledore said.

"Then why haven't there been any attacks?"

"We think he's working on Hogwarts schedule. If he attacked over the summer, almost every single Resistance member and auror would be free to stop him within minutes," Kingsley explained. "But, if he attacks while Hogwarts is in session, then most everyone will be too busy."

"So, what, you think he's resuming tomorrow?" Milo asked.

They all nodded. "We think so, yes," said McGonagall.

Milo looked between them all warily, absently running his fingers through his beard. He let out a sigh and held up his hands. "Alright. Where do you need me?"

It was half past two in the morning when Regulus was suddenly awoken. He heard the sound of yelling, heavy footsteps, and the curtains that surrounded his bed being pulled open. Regulus was still half asleep when Evan Rosier grabbed him in a wave of anger, and therefore had no time to defend himself.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU DO WITH IT?!" Evan Rosier roared, pulling Regulus roughly towards himself and pressing his wand into the boy's neck.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Theodore Travers groaned from his bed, poking his head out of the curtains that surrounded him.

"WHERE ARE THEY?!" Evan shouted again, shoving his wand so deep into Regulus's windpipe that Regulus was afraid it might tear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus choked out, suddenly wide awake.

"Can you guys shut up?" Barty called tiredly from his bed.

"WHERE DID YOU PUT THEM?!"

There was a banging coming from the dorm room below and muffled threats being shouted through the thick floor.

Regulus grabbed Evan Rosier's wrist and wrenched it away from his neck, gasping for air as soon as his windpipe was cleared of the pressure. "They're gone, you idiot. You think I would be stupid enough to take them and not destroy them?" Regulus asked, swallowing and wincing at the soreness of his throat.

Regulus didn't think that he had ever seen Evan Rosier more angry. "I swear to Merlin, Black, you will pay for this." He said in a low, menacing whisper.

Regulus raised a challenging eyebrow and gripped the dark green curtains that surrounded his bed. "We'll see," he said, and he snapped the curtains shut.

That night, Regulus Black fell asleep with his mind racing. Why did Evan Rosier hate him so much? Why was Evan Rosier so intent on getting Regulus hurt? How did he even get all of the information that he had? Why was Severus Snape working with him? And - possibly the most pressing question - what was Evan Rosier going to do next?


	50. Erised

2 September fell on a Monday that year, and the students of Hogwarts were all less than thrilled. Everyone, that is, aside from Regulus Black.

He was up at the crack of dawn, a wide grin on his face - all of the events from the night before completely forgotten. He got out of bed, dressed into his school uniform, and packed his school bag with excitement coursing through his veins. He faltered for a moment on packing _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , and he felt his enthusiasm for the day multiply tenfold.

When he was dressed and packed, he glanced at his watch. It was only six o'clock in the morning, but Regulus was already more than ready for the day. With exhilaration, Regulus bounded over to the bed of his best mate and tore open the curtains.

"Barty, wake up!" Regulus uttered an excited whisper and roughly shook the shoulder of the other boy. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

"Go away," Barty mumbled, and he rolled over to bury his face into his pillow.

"No, Barty, wake up! We have Care of Magical Creatures first thing! Wake up!" Regulus gave up on shaking the boy awake, and resorted to the only other way that he had ever known anyone to wake someone up for certain.

He took a step back from the bed, and leaped onto it. He landed across Barty's back with a laugh, and Barty grunted from the sudden pressure. "What are you doing?" Barty asked, lifting his head from the pillow and looking groggily over his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"You have to wake up, Barty, come on!" Regulus climbed over the boy and sat cross legged next to his head, shaking his shoulder again. "Get up, get up, get up!"

"Ok, ok, I'm up!" Barty said, though there was an air of laughter to his voice. "Merlin's beard Reg what are you? Six?"

"Shut up!" Regulus said, punching his friend playfully on the shoulder.

Barty chuckled, and he grabbed Regulus's wrist and pulled it towards himself. "Are you serious, Regulus?!" Regulus had to fight the urge to make the joke. Barty released his wrist and groaned in annoyance. "It's six in the ruddy morning!"

"Ok, and?" Regulus asked, and he ripped the blankets off of his friend in hopes that it would awaken him more. "Our first class of the term is Care of Magical Creatures!"

"Ok, well waking up at _six o'clock in the morning_ is not going to make the class come any sooner!" Barty protested.

"We can get there early!" Regulus reminded him.

"You're insane."

"And you're friends with me."

"Yeah, why did I make that decision? Pretty bad one, if you ask me," Barty said, and he smirked at the other boy.

Regulus put a hand on his heart, feigning offense. "Meanie."

Barty lifted his head from the pillow and gave Regulus an amused look. "Meanie? _Meanie_? Merlin, Regulus, you really are six."

"Shut up!" Regulus shouted, and he hit his friend playfully once again.

Barty climbed out of bed and began to get dressed into his school uniform, an air of exhaustion still about him. "Reg, if you ever wake me up before seven o'clock again, I will not hesitate to hex you."

Regulus laughed and gave Barty a disbelieving look. "You wouldn't." He said with an air of humor about him.

"Oh, but I would." Barty said, but even as he did, he was laughing.

Regulus waited patiently while his best mate got ready for the day. When the time had finally come where he was ready to go, Regulus hopped off of the bed and slung his book bag over his shoulder. The two boys walked down to the common room side by side, and when they reached it, it was empty.

"See, Reg, the other people in this house get how important it is to sleep," Barty said, stifling a yawn practically as soon as the last word had left his mouth.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Stop being a baby! It's not even that early!"

The only people in the Great Hall were older students who had already begun O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. revisions. It was barely 6:30 when they entered, too, so the sun wasn't even up yet. The two boys looked around at the other students in interest as they made their way to their normal seats.

The tables had not yet been filled with the whole breakfast, just a few plates of toast, bagels, donuts, and pastries. Regulus dropped down onto the bench and grabbed a mug from the middle of the table, placing it in front of himself. Nearly one second later, the mug was filled with steaming coffee.

Regulus grabbed the cup and held it with both hands, enjoying the warmth that was seeping through the porcelain and into his skin. He took a drink, and then glanced at Barty, who was smearing a bit of jam onto a slice of toast with tired eyes.

"You could always just drink some coffee," Regulus suggested, setting his mug down and reaching for a blueberry bagel, "it'll wake you right up."

"I don't like coffee," Barty murmured, and he took a bite of his toast.

Regulus shrugged. "Suit yourself."

By the time that both of the boys had eaten enough, students were just beginning to trickle into the hall. There was a mixture of exhaustion, excitement, and longing for it to be the weekend already plastered onto every single face that walked in.

Slughorn had come in at around 7:30 and begun passing out schedules for those third year and up. Regulus and Barty got theirs (Slughorn stopped to chat with them for a few minutes about how excited he was to see how they did in Potions that year) and Regulus looked over it in excitement. Sure enough, Care of Magical Creatures was their first class.

"Hang on," Barty said after the two boys had finished comparing their schedules (they had every class together), "how did you even know we had Care of Magical Creatures this morning if you didn't see your schedule?"

Regulus shrugged. "I guessed."

Barty was silent a moment, and then he rolled up his schedule into a tight cone of paper and hit Regulus with it. "You woke me up at six in the morning for a guess?!"

Regulus laughed and swatted the paper away. "You were going to wake up early anyway!"

"Yeah, at seven! Not at six!"

"What's the difference?"

Barty let out a sigh of exasperation and turned forward, muttering to himself about the earliness at which he had been awoken. Regulus laughed.

Barty and Regulus sat at the table and talked until eight o'clock. Regulus glanced at his watch, noted the time, and then turned back to Barty. "C'mon, let's go." He stood from the table.

"Go where?" Barty asked.

"Care of Magical Creatures!" Regulus said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Barty groaned and stood from the table. "Why are you so interested in that class, anyways?"

Regulus shrugged. "I've just always been interested in magical creatures, I dunno."

"I guess that's fair enough," Barty said.

As the two boys were exiting the Great Hall, they ran into Gillian. "There you two are! Why are you up so early?" She looked between the two of them in confusion.

"Reg woke me up at six." Barty said miserably.

"It was not that bad!" Regulus defended himself.

Gillian laughed. "Why so early, Regulus?"

"Care of Magical Creatures is today!" He said, a smile on his face.

"Oh, interesting. Well, have fun, and I'll see you two at lunch." Gillian gave them a smile, but before she could walk past, her eyes landed on Regulus's throat. She gasped, and her eyes widened. "What's happened to you?!"

Barty looked, too, and he had a very similar reaction. "Merlin's beard, Reg, what the hell did you do?!"

"What?" Regulus asked, putting his hand on his throat as though he would be able to feel what was wrong. "What's wrong with it?" He frowned.

Gillian grabbed his hand and dragged him to the nearest toilet, which branched just off of the entrance hall. She opened the door and pointed him inside. "Go look."

Regulus hesitantly stepped into the empty toilet and walked over to the mirror. He furrowed his brow and examined his throat - he could see why his friends had been so concerned. There was large, dark bruise where Evan Rosier had shoved his wand into Regulus's windpipe the night before. He pressed down on it gingerly and was relieved to discover that it didn't hurt very much.

He exited the bathroom, and Gillian and Barty looked at him with concern clear on their face. "Are you alright? What happened?" Gillian asked.

Regulus shrugged. "It was just Evan Rosier. It's fine."

Gillian's cheeks burned pink with anger, and she drew her wand from her pocket. "Where's the little roach?"

"Gillian, it's fine. Honestly." Regulus said, holding up a hand to stop her.

In truth, Regulus really didn't want his friends to go after Evan Rosier. Sure, watching Rosier get hexed by the two of them would surely prove to be rather entertaining, but he didn't want Evan to tell the two of them what had been written on the parchments. Regulus hadn't read everything, but he had seen enough to know that he definitely didn't want his friends to know about it. Along with this, the last time one of his friends had stood up for him against Evan Rosier, Carson had been kicked off as Quidditch captain. He really didn't want the same fate for Gillian. So, with a lot of convincing and assurance that he was ok, Barty and Gillian backed off.

Barty and Regulus bid Gillian adieu, and they enthusiastically headed out to the stables where the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson would be taking place. Well, Regulus was excited. Barty was trudging along, listening as his friend went on and on and on about how interesting the class would be.

When they arrived, Professor Kettleburn was just exiting the stable where they kept quite a few of the creatures.

Kettleburn was a very haggard looking old man with frizzy white hair and a receding hairline. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, walked with a limping gait, and had several of his limbs replaced by prosthetics. He looked at the two boys curiously with his one good eye.

"Hello! You must be... oh, don't tell me! Er... well, you're a Black, I know that much for sure. Been teaching your brother. What was your name again? Something to do with a star?" Kettleburn asked, staring intently at Regulus.

"Regulus, Professor," Regulus said with a smile.

"Ah, of course! How could I have forgotten! Didn't know I would be having you this year?"

"Yes sir, I've always been really interested in magical creatures!"

"Well, excellent! Glad to have at least one student who's not taking the class just for an easy O.W.L. And, who might you be? You look an awful lot like a boy who used to go here. Very high up in the Ministry, he is now. Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Yeah, I'm his son. I'm Barty Crouch Jr." Barty said.

"Oh, yes, of course! Are you as interested in the subject as your friend here?"

Barty shrugged. "It's alright."

"You'll learn to love them, don't you worry! Why are you boys here so early? Class doesn't start for another hour."

"I wanted to get here early!" Regulus said.

Professor Kettleburn smiled at the boys. "Well, since you're here so early, would you like to help me finish feeding the creatures?"

"Sure!" Regulus said, the excitement clear on his face.

"Excellent! Come along," he led the two boys into the stables.

Upon entering, they found themselves in a room with shelves lining the walls. The shelves were absolutely full of creature feed, treats, and jars full of peculiar things. There was a small sitting area in the corner, just beside a tall book case which held rows upon rows of creature books. The floor itself was hard wood, though there was a layer of straw and rugs that covered it in its entirety.

Regulus looked around in interest, taking in the room. Kettleburn hobbled to a corner and picked up three buckets, all holding different contents. He turned 'round and handed one bucket to each of the boys.

"Right this way," he waved them along with a hand which only had three fingers remaining.

They walked through a large archway that Regulus had seemingly failed to notice, and they entered a long corridor. The floor was made of dirt and covered in bits of straw. On either side of the corridor, there held what appeared to be pens. Inside of the pens were different types of creatures, all of which Regulus looked at in amazement.

"Just down here," Kettleburn said, turning 'round to be sure that the two boys were keeping up ok - for an old man with only half of his real limbs left, he walked quite fast.

They walked through a large set of wooden doors, and Regulus's jaw dropped in amazement. The room looked much bigger on the inside than it appeared to be on the outside. There were no specific enclosures, just an area for the few creatures who lived in there. There were bowtruckles, diricrawls, and even a little corner of pygmy puffs.

Kettleburn dropped his bucket of feed onto the ground, and the two boys quickly mirrored this action. "Alright, you two, which one would you like to feed first?"

Regulus looked at the creatures, and he noticed a very small yellow pygmy puff which was shuffling over to him. He laughed and pointed to the corner. "Those!"

Kettleburn smiled and grabbed the bucket that Barty had been carrying. "Excellent choice! Come along," he led them over to the corner with the group of colorful, fluffy creatures.

Regulus glanced at Barty, who was looking at the creatures with a look of awe and curiosity. "Do either of you know what these are?" Kettleburn asked, dropping the bucket again, only this time it was close enough that they could easily get food from it to the puffs.

"Pygmy puffs!" Regulus and Barty shouted at the same time.

"Excellent!" Kettleburn said, beaming at the two boys and grabbing a handful of feed. "Ten points to Slytherin." Barty and Regulus shared a low high-five. "Grab some food," he said, pointing to the bucket.

They both took handfuls of the scentless pellets, and they cautiously followed behind Professor Kettleburn as he led them closer to the puffs. "Ok, so we're just going to toss the food towards them. Like this," he looked over his shoulder to be sure that both boys were watching, and then tossed the food. The small pellets bounced off of the ground and spread themselves out, and the pygmy puffs all began munching away happily. Kettleburn smiled, and then stood up straight and turned to the boys. "Your turn. Go on, don't be shy."

Regulus and Barty walked cautiously, not wanting to disturb the eating puffs. They both reached out their fists and tossed the food. It bounced - just as Kettleburn's handful had - and some of the pygmy puffs dispersed to eat what had just been tossed rather than what Kettleburn had given them.

Kettleburn smiled. "Excellent job! This way, now, we'll feed the diricrawls!" He picked up the bucket that Regulus had been carrying and led them over to a small corner with lots of plants, brush, and rocks.

Strewn within the natural state of the corner, there were several large birds with hooked beaks and an array of dark feathers. Regulus looked at the creatures in curiosity - he had never seen one before.

"I believe muggles call them dodo birds," Kettleburn commented, setting down the bucket and grabbing a handful of feed. "I think they also think that they're extinct."

"Extinct? Why would they think that?" Regulus asked, following Kettleburn's action and grabbing a handful of feed.

Kettleburn shrugged. "Not really sure."

They repeated the same process of tossing the food to the birds, who snapped and ate it happily. The final creatures that they had to feed were the bowtruckles, which had been the first things to grab Regulus's attention when they entered the room. Not because of the creatures themselves, but because of the surroundings that they lived in.

In the back left corner of the room, there was a ginormous tree growing from the ground. The thick branches reached up through the rafters, and it was coated in a thick layer of small, green bodies that looked like nothing more than moving leaves.

Kettleburn grabbed the last bucket and led the two boys over to the tree. When he reached inside to grab a handful, Regulus was quite horrified to see that he had picked up a bunch of brown, moving woodlice. Regulus shuddered, and he hesitated in grabbing a handful of his own.

"Don't worry, Mr. Black, they won't hurt you," said Kettleburn, noticing Regulus's hesitation.

He inhaled deeply and held it - as though holding his breath would somehow make it better - and took a handful. The squirming of the lice wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, and he quickly relaxed. The three of them threw handful after handful of woodlice towards the bowtruckles, who were darting after them and eating contentedly.

"Alright, that's all we have today. Thank you boys for helping me. Ten more points to Slytherin." He gave them both a smile, and the three of them left the stables, holding the buckets of feed.

When they walked back out onto the grounds, Regulus had to squint his eyes and use his hand to block the sunlight that was beaming down on him. It was an unusually sunny day, and he had just spent almost an entire hour in a dark stable.

There was a group of students waiting outside of the stables, all chatting away happily. When the people exited from the wooden building, however, they stopped talking and looked between them in curiosity. Regulus and Barty joined the group, dusting off their robes from where dirt had been kicked up and stuck to them.

"Hello, class!" Exclaimed Professor Kettleburn, looking happily at his new third year students. "Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures! My name is Professor Kettleburn, and I'll be your teacher for as long as you're taking the class! Now, let's get started, shall we?"

The first day was rather boring. They didn't look at any cool creatures, or even learn about one. Professor Kettleburn simply went over important parts of the course, health and safety measures, and he even started to go over crucial things that they would need to know about their O.W.L.'s. While he did this, he gave his first class of the term a tour of the grounds. Showed them the outside of the stables, a few other outdoor creature enclosures, and the very outskirts of certain parts of the Forbidden Forest.

The entire time, Regulus and Deacon kept stealing glances at one another. Deacon would smile at him, and every time Regulus thought of smiling back, it was as though a ghost of the pain of his father's curse would overcome him. This happened on more than one occasion during the entirety of the class, and by the end of it, Regulus was more than ready to get away from the Gryffindor boy.

"What class do we have next?" Regulus asked as he and Barty were making the trek back up to the castle.

Barty pulled his schedule from the pocket of his robes and unfolded it. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh. Do you think the teacher will be nice? He seemed ok." Regulus shrugged his shoulders.

Barty shrugged back. "I'm not sure. As long as he's better than our teacher first year."

Regulus nodded his agreement, though he wasn't sure if he actually agreed. He had actually quite liked Professor Bell. Sure, he was quite annoying sometimes, but he was still a good teacher, as far as Regulus was concerned.

When they arrived to their Defense classroom a few minutes later, though, they were immediately caught off guard. All of the desks had been cleared from the middle of the room and pushed to the outskirts, leaving a completely empty middle. Professor Wilson was standing in the center of the room, a bright smile on his face as he welcomed the two newest students.

"Hello, you two! Black and Crouch, correct?" They nodded. "Great! Take a seat, anywhere is fine," he motioned to the empty floor.

Barty and Regulus sat cross legged on the cold floor, looking around as the rest of the class filed into the room. Once every single student had entered, the teacher clapped his hands and smiled at all of them in turn.

"Welcome to class, everyone! My name is Professor Nicholas Wilson, and I'll be your teacher for the time being! I would like to get a few announcements and disclaimers out of the way. I am a fan of more practical lessons. When I was in school, I always preferred the practical over the theoretical. So, those are the lessons that I am going to teach. Now, before we begin with our first lesson, are there any questions?"

Lottie Burton raised her hand, and Professor Wilson called on her. "Why are you wearing a jumper? it's September!"

Professor Wilson chuckled. "I have something called anemia. I get cold a lot more easily than other people. Anything else?" When no one raised their hands, he smiled and walked towards the side of the room. "Well, I am pleased to announce that we have our very first practical lesson together!"

He stopped beside a very large sheet, and he gripped the fabric in his fists. He pulled the sheet off with a flourish, and the students all looked at what had been revealed in confusion. It was a tall, old-looking mirror with a gold framing and a peculiar language written at the top.

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_

Lennox Wright raised her hand. "What's that?" She asked after she was called on.

"This, my friends, is the Mirror of Erised!" Professor Wilson announced.

"Well that's a stupid name," Barty muttered, and Regulus stifled a laugh.

"Anyone know what this says?" He pointed at the inscription over the top of the mirror. Everyone was silent, and Professor Wilson chuckled. "I show not your face, but your hearts desire."

"So, what, it shows what we want most in the world?" Phoebe Scott asked.

Professor Wilson pointed at her. "Exactly! Five points to Slytherin."

"Are we going to be looking into it?" Lennox asked.

He nodded his head. "I've arranged a sort of continued lesson with the headmaster. You lot will look into the mirror this year, write down what you see, and then seventh year, your Defense teacher - whoever that may be - will have you look in it again. You'll write an essay comparing your two results as your first assignment seventh year. Any questions?"

No one had any questions.

"Perfect! Now, who would like to go first?"

Phoebe Scott was the first to go. The other students formed a sort of half-circle around the mirror, and they watched Phoebe's reaction in the mirror. Everyone else in the class, aside from the onlooker themselves, could only see the reflection of the person looking. Phoebe stared into the mirror for a few seconds, her expression unchanging. When she broke her gaze away, the Professor smiled at her.

"Care to share?" He asked.

Phoebe shrugged. "Just me and my mum." And she quickly returned to the half-circle.

Regulus furrowed his brow, and Barty leaned over to him. "Isn't her mum dead?" He whispered. Regulus nodded. Barty stood up straight again, a look of slight uncomfort on his face.

"Who's next? Mr. Ackland?" Professor Wilson asked.

Deacon looked nervously at his friends, who both gave him reassuring smiles and pushed him forward gently. Deacon took a deep breath and stepped up in front of the mirror. At first, he didn't notice anything different - it was just him. He saw movement over his shoulder, but he just assumed that it was someone in the circle.

Though, when a familiar face stepped up behind him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, it took everything he had not to drop his jaw in shock. It was his mum. Though, she didn't look like the mum that he knew. Her hair wasn't coarse-looking, her face didn't have its normal discoloration, and she had on a warm smile. He looked at her with an expression of confusion and longing. Then, a second person stepped up over his other shoulder, and he shifted his gaze. His father gave him a bright grin, a twinkle in his eye that Deacon had never seen there. He was healthier-looking, and happier. Both of his parents looked happier. Deacon couldn't seem to tear his gaze away.

At first, Deacon didn't really know what it meant; what was his deepest desire? Though, when he realized, he could feel his heart cracking in his chest. His parents hated him. The parents in the mirror loved him. Deacon didn't want anything more than loving parents.

He looked away from the mirror quickly, afraid that if he kept looking, he might cry. "Do you want to share, Mr. Ackland?" Professor Wilson asked.

Deacon shook his head, and he quickly rejoined his friends. Fran looked at his best mate in concern as Lennox Wright stepped up to the mirror. "Are you alright?" He asked.

Deacon shook his head, and he fought very, very hard to keep the tears inside of his eyes where they belonged. Fran noticed that Deacon's jaw was trembling, and his heart broke for the boy. Without warning, he wrapped an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders. The gesture made Deacon's body tense up at first, but he quickly melted into it, relishing in the comfort that Fran was bringing him.

"Alright, who next. Let's see... Mr. Crouch?"

Barty sent a glance at Regulus, and then stepped up to the mirror. Just as Deacon had, Barty didn't notice a difference at first. Though, instead of having someone step up over his shoulder, the mirror stayed unchanging. Barty looked at it in confusion, unsure of what to do. Was the mirror broken? Did it just not work with him? However, a voice in the back of Barty's mind was telling him what he was supposed to see, and it was telling him what he had to do to see it.

As discreetly as he could, Barty rolled up both of the sleeves of his uniform. When he saw the Dark Mark, burning brightly on his left forearm, he couldn't keep a small smirk from his face. Of course that's what he wanted most! To work for the Dark Lord! The Dark Lord, who would appreciate him. The Dark Lord, who would give him the validation that he had never received from his father.

He rolled down his sleeves, took a step back, and returned to the circle beside Regulus. Regulus leaned over so that he could whisper directly to the boy.

"It was the Mark, wasn't it?" Regulus asked.

Barty nodded his head, and Regulus stood up straight again. He rolled up his sleeves now so that it wouldn't look suspicious when he did it at the mirror. For, Regulus was absolutely certain that he would have the same view. Himself with the Dark Mark. Himself with the approval and validation of his parents. Himself, making his parents proud. Regulus was certain that that was his hearts desire.

Evan Rosier went next, and he had a similar reaction as Barty. It wasn't hard to deduce what he had seen.

"Mr. Anderson?"

Francesco reluctantly withdrew his arm from around Deacon's shoulders and took a step forward. Regulus stood on the sidelines, analyzing the boy's face. At first, he gave no reaction. Though, his face quickly paled, and he looked quite uncomfortable about the sight before him. Regulus furrowed his brow, wondering what it could possibly be.

Francesco stepped away from the mirror as quickly as he had stepped up, his heart ricocheting off of his ribcage. He hurried back to his spot in the circle, though he moved to the other side of Benji instead of standing beside Deacon. He tried very hard to keep his expression straight, and to give no reaction about what he had just seen. Though, the image kept flashing through his mind, no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

Benji was called up next. He walked up to the mirror and stared into it with absolutely no idea of what he was going to see. Though, when the image finally showed up, it made perfect sense.

It was he, Deacon, and Francesco. Though, they looked different. Well, Fran didn't look much different, but Deacon surely did. He looked healthier, happier, and all around, better. The ghost of worry that had found a permanent residence on the boy's young face was gone. Fran also looked better. For the past few months, Fran had been different. He looked nervous, confused, and just all-around odd practically all of the time. Benji smiled at the mirror, enjoying the happiness that was presiding on the faces of his two best mates.

When Benji returned to the circle, Theodore Travers was called up. Again, he pulled up his sleeves, and a satisfied expression came over his face. Lottie Burton was next, and she gave no indication as to what she was seeing. Though, when she stepped away, Regulus realized that that could only mean one thing-

"Last but not least, Mr. Black!" Professor Wilson beamed at the boy, and Regulus took a deep breath.

Regulus stepped up to the mirror, stared into it, and his eyes darted to his left forearm. Though, where he had expected to see the Dark Mark, there was nothing but pasty white skin. He furrowed his brow and looked himself in the eye. His breath caught in his throat.

His eyes had lost their grey tint, and were now a brilliant shade of blue. Though, his surprise quickly turned to one of confusion - this couldn't possibly be the only difference, could it? Blue eyes? What did that have to do with anything?

However, his question was quickly answered when he noticed movement over his right shoulder. He looked up, and his eyes seemed to soften at once. Sirius was standing behind him, a look of merriment on his face. He clapped a hand onto Regulus's shoulder and grinned from ear to ear at his little brother.

Regulus didn't want to look away. It was he and Sirius. That was his desire. Regulus and Sirius were brothers again. They were happy. They loved each other. They were back to how they were as children.

Regulus looked away from the mirror, willing the tears away. He hastily rejoined his friend, who leaned over to ask him what he had seen. "Huh? Oh - er - just the mark." Regulus said.

For the rest of class, Professor Wilson told them all the history of the Mirror of Erised. Though, the students couldn't seem to shake the things that they had seen from their minds. More specifically, Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Regulus Black couldn't seem to forget. Deacon and Regulus were staring blankly forward for the remaining class period, trying very hard not to cry over what they had seen. Francesco was taking diligent notes, doing everything he could to distract himself from the memories.

When class was over, Regulus rushed out ahead of Barty. He really just wanted to go to the common room and be alone, even from his best mate. However, when he was halfway down the nearest staircase, Deacon stopped him.

"Regulus!" He called, jogging after the boy and stopping in front of him so that Regulus could advance no further.

"Go away," Regulus snapped, pushing past the boy and hurrying down the rest of the stairs. Though, before he could reach the bottom, the staircase detached itself and began to rotate in mid air.

Regulus let out an irritated sigh. Deacon stood next to him. "Do you want to go out on the pitch, maybe? I know Quidditch is starting soon, and-"

"No." Regulus said before Deacon could even finish his sentence.

Deacon looked hurt, and Regulus swelled with guilt. He wanted to apologize to the boy, but just as the words were about to leave his mouth, the same ghost of pain washed over him. He shivered, and the muscles in his back twitched. He couldn't hang out with Deacon anymore. No, he truly couldn't. If anyone were to find out, Regulus's parents would use the Cruciatus on him as soon as look at him. No, no he couldn't talk to Deacon. He couldn't.

Deacon gave him an odd look. "Are you alright?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern.

"Fine." Regulus stated, and he stepped off of the staircase the second that it touched the landing. He needed to get away from Deacon. He just wanted to be alone. Merlin, Regulus really, really just wanted to be alone.

Deacon watched Regulus leave, and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He had seen the reaction that Regulus had had to the mirror, and he thought that the two of them would be able to talk about it. To talk about what they had seen. No one else in the class had gotten as upset as the two of them. At least, not visually as upset.

Deacon turned around, and he hurried up to the Gryffindor common room before anyone could see him cry.

Francesco arrived at lunch with Benji minutes after class had ended. Though, when they saw that Deacon was no where to be found, they quickly became worried. Fran was the one to suggest the dorm room, and he was also the one that insisted he go.

So, he left Benji in the Great Hall and trekked up to Gryffindor Tower. " _Grindylows_ ," he said to the Fat Lady, and she swung open without hesitation.

When he reached the dormitory, it was dark. All of the lights were off, the curtains were pulled tightly shut, and Deacon was nothing but a lump on his bed. At first glance, Francesco thought that the boy was merely asleep. However, as he got closer, he realized that he definitely wasn't.

Deacon was crying. Deacon was crying very, very hard. His entire body racked with sobs, and he was curled tightly around himself on top of his blankets. Francesco felt like his heart might just shatter at the poor state of his friend, and he acted without thinking on it.

He climbed onto Deacon's bed, laid down behind him, and wrapped his arms around the boy. Deacon's entire body went rigid, and he sniffled as he looked over his shoulder. When Deacon's sad and bloodshot eyes met Francesco's, Francesco felt an odd fluttering in his heart and a twisting in his stomach that he just couldn't quite place.

Though, he pushed these feelings aside and focused solely on making his friend feel better. He smiled and loosened his grip on the boy so that Deacon could turn around. He did, and the two boys stared into one another's eyes through the darkness that was thick between them. Francesco felt his breath catch in his throat, and he traced the boy's face with his eyes. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks were red and stained with tears, the tip of his nose was red, and his lower lip was trembling. Francesco's eyes lingered on his lips the longest before he tore them away and averted them back to Deacon's.

"Alright?" He asked, just above a breath.

Deacon could feel Fran's breath on his face, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Though, it didn't take away from the sadness that he was experiencing.

He shook his head.

Without hesitation, Francesco wrapped his arms tighter around the boy and pulled him into himself. Deacon resumed his sobbing, and he curled himself into Francesco, resting his head against the boy's chest. Francesco held the boy for what felt like hours, rubbing his back and whispering comforting words to him.

Francesco didn't know what Deacon had seen in the mirror, but whatever it was, it had seemingly broken the boy. And Francesco, despite his own odd feelings, wanted nothing more than to put him back together. Piece by piece.


	51. What's the Cruciatus Curse?

For the next few weeks, Regulus spent all of his time ignoring Deacon Ackland and pouring himself into his studies. More than anything, he wanted to avoid the boy at all costs. He felt bad for saying no to hanging out with the boy, but he also knew that he couldn't say yes. He couldn't risk his parents finding out. He didn't want them to be mad at him. More than anything, Regulus wanted to risk being Crucio'd again. He was terrified of it. Regulus, a thirteen-year-old boy, was terrified of his own parents.

Francesco had also spent a lot of his time ignoring Deacon. Though, in a very different way. Francesco was still spending time with the boy, of course, but he wasn't speaking to him very much. Every time he was around the boy, he got an array of odd feelings that he didn't know how to place. He didn't like the feelings. He didn't want to experience them. So, he began speaking to him less and less.

Deacon was sad. Deacon was very, very sad. Fran wasn't talking to him. Regulus wasn't talking to him. Benji was stuck in an awkward in-between state of hanging out with the two of his friends. He would spend some days with Fran, and some days with Deacon. Deacon missed his friends. But he didn't want to tell them, for he felt that it might look like he were trying to guilt trip his friends into being friends with him. And he really didn't want to feel like he was guilt tripping them. Deacon was just very, very, very sad. And he didn't know what to do to fix it.

Benji didn't know what to do, either. He didn't know what was going on with his two friends. He didn't know why Fran was acting so weird, and he didn't know why Deacon was so sad. He could tell that Deacon was trying to hide his sadness from his two friends, but he could see it clear in the eyes of the boy. What was worse, he could hear the boy crying himself to sleep almost every night. He wanted to go over to the bed and comfort him, but he didn't want to risk making it worse.

Everyones dynamics were being thrown through a loop, and no one knew how to fix it.

Quidditch tryouts came and went, and aside from the bad moods of both boys, Regulus and Deacon made the teams with ease. Evan Rosier protested Regulus's appointment to Seeker, saying that he had only made the team because he was friends with Gillian. Gillian argued with him, and she even had to have a very long conversation with Slughorn after hitting him with a Bat-Bogey Hex.

It was the end of September.

Regulus Black was walking from Defense Against the Dark Arts by himself, seeing as how Barty wanted to stay behind and have a quick conversation with the teacher about an essay. He was halfway down to the entrance hall when someone suddenly appeared at his side.

"Hullo, Regulus! How's your day going?" Deacon asked, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder and smiling meekly at the boy.

Regulus didn't say anything. He sped up his pace.

Deacon had to jog a little to keep up. "Are you alright?"

Regulus didn't answer.

"Regulus?"

"Can you leave me alone?!" Regulus snapped, rounding on the boy with an air of rage about him.

Deacon recoiled slightly from the anger of the boy, and hurt flashed through his already sad eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Regulus relaxed his body and looked apologetically at the boy; he looked as though he might cry. The same ghost of pain crept up Regulus's spine, but he ignored it. He felt awful. But he couldn't apologize without giving Deacon the wrong idea.

"I just wanted to know... I know you've been ignoring me and everything, but I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out for a bit later?" He forced a small smile, but it faltered seconds later.

Regulus let out a sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose, focusing solely on the irritation instead of the guilt. "I can't."

Deacon was quiet a moment. Regulus took that as his sign, and he quickly turned around and began walking briskly down the hall. Deacon followed closely behind.

"Why not?" He asked.

Regulus let out another frustrated sigh and closed his eyes. "I just can't."

"But why not?"

Regulus stopped and turned around again, though this time much less angrily. "Do you know what the Cruciatus curse is, Deacon?" He asked lowly.

Deacon shook his head.

"Well, that's what's going to happen to me if I hang out with you. So no. I can't. Now can you leave me the bloody hell alone?" He snapped.

When he turned around to leave, Deacon let him.

Deacon appeared at the lunch table with his friends a few minutes later, though he wasn't eating. He was pushing his food around the plate with his fork, brow furrowed in concentration, trying to recall if he had ever learned or read anything about the Cruciatus curse.

"You alright?" Benji asked, nudging him with his elbow.

Francesco looked up from his lunch plate and gave the two boys a quizzical look. Deacon looked at the two boys, and took his chance. Considering they were both pure-bloods, they probably had at least some idea about what the spell did.

"What's the Cruciatus curse?" He asked.

Fran dropped his fork onto his plate, and Benji widened his eyes. "Why? Where'd you hear that from? Did someone threaten you with it?" Fran asked, suddenly quite angry and alarmed.

Deacon shook his head. "No, I just..." he paused and stole a glance towards the Slytherin table. He didn't really know if he wanted to divulge where exactly he had gotten the question from. "I just heard some seventh years talking about it earlier."

Benji and Fran looked at one another warily. "The Cruciatus is one of the three Unforgivable curses," Benji started. Deacon nodded along with the explanation - he had heard of the Unforgivables before. Not what they were or what they did, just of them. "There's the Cruciatus, the Imperius, and the Avada Kedavra."

"The Imperius allows the caster to control the victim's mind, and therefore their bodies. People have been known to murder while under the Imperius, which is why it's so unforgivable," Fran explained.

Benji nodded. "The Avada Kedavra is the killing curse. It kills the victim on the spot. No wounds, no signs of a cause of death, nothing. Mum said that whenever muggles are hit with it, they're usually baffled as to what caused it."

"And the Cruciatus is the torture curse. People argue that it's the worst one. At least with the Avada Kedavra, you're out and done for within a few seconds. The Cruciatus doesn't kill you. It just makes you suffer. From what I've heard, it's like getting the pain of death, but without the relief of the end." Fran shivered at the thought.

Deacon's face was contorted with concern. Regulus was afraid of the torture curse? But why? Who was using it on him? Had they already used it on him? Was that why the boy had seemed so rigid whenever Deacon tried to speak with him? Had Deacon been the cause? Had Deacon Ackland gotten Regulus Black tortured?

"Dea?" Benji asked, nudging him again and breaking him from his headspace.

"Huh? What?" He asked, looking between the two of them.

"We asked why you wanted to know?" Fran asked.

"Oh," Deacon shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, "like I said, just heard some seventh years talking about it. Thought I'd ask." He paused. "What does it feel like? The Cruciatus, I mean?"

Benji and Fran shrugged. "Dunno. But, from what I understand, it's enough pain to drive someone mad if they have it held on them for too long." Fran said morosely.

" _Mad_?" Deacon asked, appalled.

Benji nodded. "Far as I know, that's what happened to that Slytherin girl over the summer last year. When she went insane. My guess is that You Know Who used the Cruciatus on her for too long."

Deacon felt sick. He couldn't imagine being in that much pain - he didn't want to imagine it. Had Regulus Black experienced it? Had it been used on him before? But by _who_? Who would want to use the Cruciatus on him? Surely not his parents. They're his parents! They wouldn't use the Cruciatus on their own son... right?

"Hello, boys," a familiar voice drawled, and Deacon was broken from his train of thought.

All three of the Gryffindor boys looked up, and they met eyes with a very happy looking Clementine Bates. She was smiling brightly at all of them, and there was a girl at her side. Though, the girl seemed to be a bit more hidden behind Clementine, as though she were shy.

"Hi, Clementine," Deacon said, giving his friend a smile. He turned to the other girl. "Hullo."

The girl smiled at him and stepped more into view of the boys. "Hi," she said, a kind smile on her face.

Benji's eyes widened when he saw her. She was gorgeous! The girl had long honey blonde hair that had a natural wave and volume to it. She had a pale complexion, and sharp features that were hidden beneath a young face. Though, the most captivating feature that Benji could see were her eyes. They were brilliant shade of green, and they seemed to have a twinkle and a kindness about them.

"This is my friend Gwendolyn," Clementine introduced the girl to the boys, "she's the year below us."

"I'm Benjamin," Benji said hastily, and Fran and Deacon both gave him odd looks. He didn't take notice. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." She gave him a warm smile, and then looked at the other two boys.

"Oh, right. I'm Francesco, and that's Deacon," Fran said, gesturing to himself and Deacon.

"It's very nice to meet all of you."

"It's really great to meet you, too," Benji said - he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her.

Deacon and Fran shared a knowing gaze, and it took everything in the both of them not to laugh at the state of their friend.

Regulus sat at the Slytherin table, glancing towards the Gryffindors. Peter Pettigrew was doubled over on the bench with laughter, Remus Lupin was bright red, Sirius Black was grinning at him, and James Potter was choking on the laughter that he was trying to suppress.

James Potter.

Regulus narrowed his eyes at the older Gryffindor boy, and quickly averted his gaze. Ever since looking in the Mirror of Erised, Regulus had felt a strong dislike towards his brother's best mate. For, Regulus couldn't help but think that, perhaps if Sirius had never met James Potter, he would've been sorted Slytherin and the two could still be brothers. However, James Potter had taken that from him. James Potter had taken Regulus's brother away.

James Potter had fulfilled the role of a brother in Sirius's eyes. And it made Regulus rather miserable to think about.

"You alright, Reg?" Barty asked, leaning closer to his friend.

"Hm?" Regulus asked, looking at him in confusion.

"Are you ok? You look upset," Barty pointed out.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He shrugged, grabbed his mug, and gulped down the rest of his coffee. "C'mon, we have to get to Charms."

The two boys stood up, said goodbye to Gillian, and began their exit out of the Great Hall. However, what they didn't notice was that the four marauders had chosen that time to leave, too. They entered the Entrance Hall to find Professor Wilson standing there, an almost frightened look upon his face. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he was pacing in short circles, and he was mumbling to himself.

The two third year Slytherins looked at one another, silently deciding whether or not it was worth it to pursue. "Uh - are you alright, Professor?" Regulus asked.

Professor Wilson snapped back to attention, tightening the crossing of his arms instinctually. However, when he saw who it was, he quickly relaxed and gave them a small smile. "Oh, hello boys. Yes, yes I'm alright. Just... uh... important business, I s'pose."

Barty and Regulus side-eyed one another, but collectively decided to ignore the odd behavior of their Defense teacher. "Well, I'd best be off. See you two around," and Professor Wilson hastily disappeared. However, instead of going up the stairs and towards his own classroom, he went down to the dungeons.

Barty and Regulus decided to just add this to the list of his odd behavior, and they turned around to return to their normal path. However, as soon as Regulus turned around, he ran right into someone.

He stumbled backwards, and so did the person who he had run into. Regulus steadied himself quickly, and he looked upon the newly-stable form of James Potter. His black hair was unruly - as usual - and his glasses had been knocked askew and were sitting crookedly on the bridge of his nose.

Regulus narrowed his eyes and glared at James Potter with unmatched intensity. "Watch where you're going," he snapped.

James looked a little taken aback at first, but Sirius was the first one to say something. "You ran into him, you little prat!" Sirius retorted, fixing his younger brother with the same glare.

Barty, Peter, James, and Remus looked between the two brothers, and they couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblance.

"Ok, well maybe if he had been watching where he was going, I wouldn't have bloody run into him!" Regulus shot back.

"Is it exhausting, Regulus? To be that ruddy insufferable all of the time?!"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, because I'm the insufferable one."

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"Merlin's beard, you're a child!"

"Shut up!"

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking insufferable, then father wouldn't have used the Cru-" he cut himself off.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Regulus was under the impression that Barty was probably the only one who didn't know what Sirius was talking about.

Regulus didn't know what to say. His glare lost its intensity, and he couldn't do anything aside from stare at his brother in shock. Of course he and Sirius were fighting again, but Regulus didn't think that Sirius would stoop to the level of bringing up the Cruciatus. But, of course he had. He was Sirius Black, after all.

"Sirius," James Potter hissed, giving his friend a stern gaze.

"Speak for yourself," was all Regulus could manage to say. Even then, it didn't come out with nearly as much passion as his voice was carrying before.

Without another word, Regulus pushed past the four marauders. He purposefully shoved past James, causing the older boy to stumble, but he didn't seem to mind. He was too busy staring at Sirius in surprise. As soon as Regulus was out of earshot, he spoke up.

"That was uncalled for." He said firmly.

Sirius shifted his weight and scuffed the tip of his shoe against the linoleum floor. "I know." He muttered.

"It doesn't matter that he ran into me," James continued, "you can't say stuff like that. How would you feel if Regulus had said that to you?"

"I know, alright?" Sirius snapped, and he looked at James in indignation.

"Do you?" James asked. "Seriously, Sirius, you need to apologize."

"I don't need to do anything."

James sniffed and adjusted his book bag on his shoulder. "Suit yourself." And he walked off. Though, he didn't walk in the direction of the Potions classroom, where the marauders would be having their next class.

The other three watched him ascend the staircase out of the entrance hall, and then the other two turned to Sirius. "He's right, you know." Remus said.

"Are you seriously taking his side?" Sirius demanded.

"I'm not taking anyone's side. But James was right. That was uncalled for. You shouldn't have said it."

"It's not even that big of a deal!" Sirius defended himself.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Fine. I can see why your father used the Cruciatus on you, now." His voice was cold.

Sirius looked at him in shock, and he felt a pang in his chest. "What the fuck, Remus?!"

Remus shrugged. "If you can say it to Regulus without feeling bad, then why can't someone say it to you?"

"It's different! I'm not a ruddy Death Eater!"

Remus let out an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We've been over this, Sirius. You checked for the mark, right? And he didn't have it?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"But nothing," Remus cut him off, "he's not a Death Eater. Leave it be." Remus turned and started towards the dungeon stairs.

Sirius and Peter stood in silence. "He's right," Peter said, and he hurried off after Remus.

Sirius let out an irritated groan and followed behind his two friends, a series of thoughts circling his mind.

Regulus and Barty walked in silence. Regulus didn't want to talk about what Sirius had said, and Barty didn't want to ask about it, either.

"Your bother is a real git," Barty finally said after the boys were several floors above the entrance hall. 

Regulus nodded his head. "You can say that again."

Barty was quiet a moment. "What was he talking about? It sounded like he was going to say something about the Cruciatus?" He sounded concerned.

Regulus tried to seem nonchalant as he shrugged his shoulders. "No idea."

Regulus, truthfully, didn't really want anyone knowing about what his parents had done to him over summer break. He didn't want the worry and attention that it would bring him. He didn't want his parents to find out, get mad, and use it on him again. He didn't want any of it. He didn't even know why he had brought up the curse with Deacon earlier that day at all. It had sort of just... slipped out. However, he did take comfort in knowing that at least Deacon didn't know what it was.

"Regulus!" Both boys turned around at the sound of Regulus's name being called, and their eyes landed on a rather out of breath James Potter.

Regulus straightened up to his full height and raised his chin. "What do you want?" He demanded.

James stopped in front of the two of them, and his eyes darted between Barty and Regulus quickly. James knew that, if he just flat out told Regulus he needed to speak with him, there was little to no chance that Regulus would actually go along. So, he came up with the quickest and best lie that he could.

"Slughorn asked me to come get you. He - er - he said he wanted to talk to you about something." James fabricated.

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "I have Slughorn after Charms. I'll talk to him then."

He started to turn around, but James hastily began to speak again. "He said it was really important! Sounded really urgent! Uh - he said it couldn't wait."

Regulus didn't believe James Potter one bit. There was no way that James could've gone all the way to the Potions classroom, talked to Slughorn, and managed to reach the boys in such a short amount of time. However, he knew that James probably wouldn't drop it. And, at least now Regulus might have the chance to tell the boy off.

He turned to Barty. "Can you please tell Professor Flitwick that I'll be late?" He asked.

Barty eyed him warily. "You sure?"

Regulus nodded and gave him a smile. "Positive."

"Alright. Then yeah, sure."

"Thanks."

Barty nodded, sent one last questioning glance at James, and then retreated towards the Charms classroom. Regulus didn't waste very much time - he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He walked briskly past James, who had to jog to keep up with the boy.

"Regulus, slow down!" He said.

Regulus didn't slow down. He turned corner after corner, leading James as far away from the other students as possible. When he was sure that they were far enough away that no one would just bump into them, he spun around and crossed his arms.

"Alright. Out with it." James gave him an odd look and stayed silent. Regulus let out a vexed sigh. "Come on, Potter, I don't have all day."

"Hang on," James began, putting his hands up in front of himself, "how do you know that I wasn't actually sent by Slughorn to get you?"

"You're a terrible liar." Regulus replied coolly.

James didn't take offense to the statement. He simply got on with what he had to say. "I'm sorry."

"For?" Regulus asked impatiently.

"For what Sirius said. I know that-"

"So, he told you, then?" Regulus demanded.

James Potter's face turned a light shade of pink. "Well, yes, but-"

"Excellent. Is that all, then?"

James lifted an eyebrow, and he gave Regulus a stern look. "No need to be so rude."

"Oh no, I've displeased the great James Potter! Whatever will I do now?" Regulus said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm only trying to be nice!"

"I didn't ask you to be nice." Regulus snapped.

James let out a sigh. "Well, yeah, that's all. Just wanted to apologize on your brother's behalf."

"Well, looks like you wasted your time with that one." Regulus paused. "And he's not my brother."

James's brows knit together. "What?"

Regulus was quiet a moment, trying to decide whether it was worth elaborating upon. "Regulus?" James pressed.

"Sirius isn't my brother. Not anymore. Not in my eyes, and especially not in his." Regulus explained, though he kept his voice cold.

"You don't mean that-"

"I do." Regulus spat. He looked James Potter up and down in disgust. "And it looks like you've assumed the role."

Without any further words, Regulus pushed past James and hastened to his Charms class. James Potter stayed in the dark corridor, brow furrowed, frozen. Why did Regulus dislike him so ruddy much? However, it didn't take a genius to realize what exactly the reason was. And when James Potter did, he felt an immense amount of sympathy for the boy that had left him standing alone.

Regulus Black was sitting alone in the dorm room at half past ten at night. Well, he wasn't necessarily alone, but Barty was fast asleep in his bed. He wasn't exactly sure where Theodore Travers and Evan Rosier were, but he couldn't help but assume that they were probably somewhere plotting something against him.

Since the first night of term, Evan Rosier hadn't really done anything to Regulus. He wasn't making his usual snide remarks, empty threats, or whispering angrily to Severus Snape about Regulus. However, Regulus knew that it was all a facade, and that Rosier was probably just planning the perfect way to get back at Regulus.

Tonight was not that night, Regulus deduced. So, he felt that it would be safe for him to leave the common room. Where he wanted to go, however, was the real question. They had already had Quidditch practice that day, and Regulus was still sore from it. So, he didn't really fancy a night on the pitch. He thought of going to the boat dock, but he knew that it would just be cold, wet, and loud. In fact, he felt that way about any part of the dungeons. Well, not the loud part, but it would definitely be cold and damp.

So, it was with that in mind that Regulus decided to just wander the castle. He had fairly good hearing, so he was certain that he would be able to hear Filch if he were to come.

Regulus slipped on his shoes, coat, grabbed his wand, and left.

The castle was dark, empty, and quiet; just what Regulus had wanted. He walked through corridors that he had never been before, talking to some of the portraits who were still awake, and just enjoying himself. It was quite fun, he thought, exploring the castle at night with only oneself.

Though, when he heard a set of footsteps that didn't have Filch's familiar gait, he pressed himself flat against the stone wall and willed whoever it was to go away. He squeezed his eyes shut, focused his full attention on the footsteps, and held his breath.

However, when he heard the unknown visitor round the corner and stop, he opened his eyes. He let out a frustrated sigh and stepped away from the wall. "You've got to be kidding me."

"That's rude." Deacon Ackland pointed out.

"I don't care." Regulus said flatly. "What the hell are you doing here, anyways?"

Deacon shrugged. "I dunno. I just wanted to walk around the castle. Is that a _crime_?"

"So, what? You're just wandering the halls of the castle, alone, in the dark? That's creepy."

Deacon raised an eyebrow. "You're doing it." He pointed out.

"So?" Regulus snapped.

Deacon crossed his arms. "Stop being so mean."

"No."

Deacon rolled his eyes. However, when he remembered the last time he had talked to Regulus Black, and about what the boy had said, his demeanor changed completely. Instead of looking at the boy with an air of annoyance, he looked at him with an air of sympathy.

Regulus noticed the sudden change, and it made him feel sort of uncomfortable. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

Regulus's face contorted with a mixture of confusion and disgust. "Pardon?"

"Well, I know what the Cruciatus curse is now. I asked Fran and Benji about it - don't worry, I didn't tell them why I was wondering. But, they told me what it was, and... are you alright? Really?"

Regulus was silent, and his expression seemed to be melting at a gradual rate. "Fine." He said, though Deacon noticed the unsureness that laced his tone.

"Who's using it on you?" Deacon asked, his voice just above a breath.

For a brief moment, Regulus thought about telling him. He didn't know why, but he just felt that he could. In that moment, he felt like he could tell Deacon Ackland anything. But he knew that he couldn't. He really, really couldn't.

Regulus sniffed and raised his chin, gaining back his composure. "No one. Forget I said anything."

"Regulus-" but before Deacon could finish, an echo sounded.

Both boys froze, listening intently for whatever the sound was. It came again. And again. And again. Regulus realized what they were before Deacon: footsteps. And they were headed straight for the both of them.

Without hesitation, Regulus motioned for Deacon to follow, and he took off down the hall. Both boys were trying very hard to keep their footsteps as silent as possible as they looked for somewhere to hide from the newest member of the "sneaking out past dark" club.

Regulus found a door, yanked it open, and pulled Deacon inside without a second thought. However, what he thought would be an empty classroom, turned out to be a very cramped broom closet. The boys were less than two feet apart, and that was with them both pressing against opposite walls as flatly as they could.

They looked at one another through the darkness, silently agreeing that they should be as quiet as possible. They didn't even move very much for the risk of accidentally knocking over the cleaning supplies. So, it was while Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland were confined in this tiny broom closet, that they heard something rather suspicious.

"... know! It's not that bloody simple, though, now is it?!" A familiar voice hissed. Deacon and Regulus's faces contorted with confusion, for they both recognized the voice. From where, however, was the question.

There came no response, but the familiar voice continued, as though responding to someone. "I'm trying my best, alright?" No response. "Ok, well what do _you_ suggest I do?" Nothing. "I can't. It's too risky." Another lack of a response. "Ok. Yeah, yeah I can do that. Are you sure?" Absolutely nothing. "Yeah, alright. I'll keep an eye on them." Silence. "Yes, I'll report back as soon as possible."

Regulus shifted slightly, knocking a broom over. It hit the wall with a small crack, and both boys froze. The color drained from their faces completely, and they held their breaths. For some reason, whatever that may be, they both had a strong inkling that they did not want whoever this was to find them.

The footsteps ceased momentarily, and then - much to the horror of the two third years - started coming closer to the closet. They closed their eyes, just waiting for whoever it was to catch them, imagining the worst of what could happen, when-

"What are you doin'?!" Filch's voice called.

Regulus and Deacon both let out the breaths that they had been holding - neither had ever been so happy to hear the old caretaker. "I apologize, Mr. Filch. I thought I heard something."

"Oh, it's you. It's alright. Thought you were someone else." Filch grumbled.

However, despite the ok of the caretaker, they could hear the retreating footsteps of the mysterious person.

"Who was that?" Deacon whispered after minutes of silence had passed.

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."

"Should we tell someone?"

"Tell someone what?"

"What we heard!"

Regulus shook his head. "No. Whoever it was, they weren't even talking to anyone, right? I'll bet it was the Divination teacher. Probably just talking to some spirits or something."

"That's not how Divination works." Deacon pointed out.

Regulus shot him a glare. "Does it look like I care?"

"Ok, geez, sorry."

Regulus rolled his eyes and gingerly grabbed the handle of the door, twisting it and pushing the door open as quietly as possible. He stuck his head out, looked both ways, and once he was sure it was safe, stepped into the empty corridor beyond. Deacon followed closely behind, and the two stood in the corridor in silence.

"Don't-" Regulus began.

"-mention this to anyone. Yeah, I got it." Deacon finished.

Regulus looked curiously at the boy in front of him; he looked sad. Regulus thought fleetingly of asking what was wrong, but he quickly decided it would be a bad idea. So, he took off without so much as a second glance.

When Deacon Ackland returned to his dorm room nearly half an hour later, Francesco heard him. He heard Deacon change into pyjamas, he heard Deacon climb into bed, and he heard Deacon begin to cry. As much as the sound broke Fran's heart, he didn't act on it. He couldn't. Not without getting the odd feelings; the odd feelings that he didn't like.

And so, it was with that that both boys fell asleep that night, tears in their eyes and pain in their hearts.


	52. The Duel in Hogsmeade Square

The first Hogsmeade weekend fell on a Saturday in mid-October.

Regulus and Barty both woke up at half past five in the morning, grins on their faces and excitement in their veins. The boys got dressed in an enthusiastic silence, grabbed their money for the day, bundled themselves in thick coats and long scarves, and dashed down to the common room.

Gillian Fairman was sitting on the couch, staring at the flames that flickered behind the grate of the fireplace. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps, and a wide grin crossed her face. She stood from the couch, Slytherin scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and bundled in a thick, black coat.

"Hey, guys! Are you ready to go?" She asked, stepping towards the two of them.

They both nodded vigorously, stuffing their hands into their pockets. Gillian led the two of them towards the common room door; Regulus and Barty followed closely behind her, giddy with excitement.

The three of them had spent the night before going over what they would be doing in Hogsmeade the following day. They had made the decision to wake up early and have breakfast at the Three Broomsticks, which the two boys were absolutely ecstatic about. The earliness of the morning and the darkness of the corridors made for a very peaceful walk through the dungeons, up to the entrance hall, and out onto the grounds.

The air was cold, and the three friends could feel it nipping at their exposed skin. However, that didn't stop the joy that the two third year boys were experiencing. They were beyond excited for their first Hogsmeade weekend, and they just wanted to get there as soon as possible. The two of them ran ahead of her on the path, headed straight for the open gates of the school.

Gillian laughed as the two boys ran ahead of her, shaking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets. Regulus and Barty were laughing with one another, relishing in the cool, early October air that was filling their lungs. The green grass that lined the path was sprinkled with dew drops that glistened in the sun, which was just coming up over the horizon.

"Guys, slow down!" Gillian called, though her voice was laced with humor and joy.

The two boys laughed, and they simultaneously turned around to face Gillian, running backwards. "Hurry up, Gill! We have to get there!" Regulus shouted.

Gillian rolled her eyes, though she couldn't keep away the smile that was quirking her lips. She sped up her walking, which was good enough for the two boys. They jogged down the dirt path, pushing one another playfully and laughing at seemingly nothing.

When they reached Hogsmeade, it looked just as beautiful and fun as the two boys had expected. There was a light layer of precipitation that covered the little wizarding village, and it seemed to be radiating with joy. Regulus and Barty stepped onto the cobbled main road, and they looked around in awe. The street was absolutely lined with shops, restaurants, and cafés, which were all bustling with early morning activity.

Some of the residents of Hogsmeade were awake, doing their early morning shopping, getting breakfast, or else getting a quick spot of tea before heading off to work. Regulus and Barty didn't see very many other students out yet, just a few that were sprinkled throughout.

Frank Longbottom and Alice Fortescue were hand in hand, walking to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, laughing with one another about something that Frank had said. A Hufflepuff boy and a Ravenclaw girl were sitting on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square, both drinking warm cups of hot cocoa. There were a few others dotted throughout, most of them wearing scarves or hats that correlated with their house colors.

Gillian came up behind the two boys, a very wide grin on her face. "Alright, boys. Breakfast?"

They both nodded their heads, and she led them towards a very busy looking pub. When they stepped inside, they were hit with a gust of warm air and a delicious smell. It smelled like warm butterbeer, herbs, and an array of different breakfast foods.

For how early it was, the pub was quite busy. The barstools were full of people, drinking their respective beverages and talking jovially with one another. Regulus quite liked the energy of the Three Broomsticks - it was nice.

Gillian led the two boys over to a table in the far corner, and they all sat down. Regulus was sitting on the opposite side of Gillian, Barty to his left. He looked out of the window that their table was pressed up against, examining the line of small cottages that the back of the Three Broomsticks looked out upon.

Gillian glanced around the pub, as though she were looking for someone. Barty was also looking around the cozy room, though he was doing it more out of interest than actual searching.

"Hello, lot! What can I get for ya today?" Madam Rosmerta was suddenly at their table, a pad of paper in hand, smiling at the three students.

Regulus and Barty looked at the menu on the middle of the table, which changed the item on display every few seconds. It took the two of them less than thirty seconds to decide what they wanted.

"Can I get waffles, please?" Regulus asked.

"Me too," added Barty.

"Alright... and for you?" She scribbled down the orders of the two boys and then turned to Gillian.

"Can I please get some pancakes, and a full English breakfast." Gillian said.

Both boys looked at her in a bit of surprise - that was a lot of food, more than they thought a single person could consume themselves. "Ok, I have two waffles, pancakes, and an English breakfast. Anything to drink?"

"Yes, can we please get four butterbeers and a mug of coffee," she added the coffee while looking directly at Regulus, a small smirk quirking the corner of her mouth.

"Excellent. That going to be all?"

"I think so." Gillian replied.

"Alright, I'll have that out in just a mo'."

Madam Rosmerta turned 'round and bustled towards the bar. Barty and Regulus both turned to their friend, giving her an odd look. "Why'd you order four drinks? Well, five, but why four butterbeers?" Regulus asked.

Gillian was about to answer when a familiar voice rang through the air. "Oh, come on, you didn't seriously think that I would miss your first Hogsmeade weekend, did you? What kind of surrogate brother do you think I am?"

Carson Nott dropped down onto the bench beside Gillian, a grin on his face. "Carson!" Barty and Regulus shouted in unison.

Carson laughed and reached across the table, tousling both of their hair with his hands. Regulus and Barty laughed, and Regulus reached up a hand to wrench Carson's hand out of his hair. "Stop!" He complained, but his voice was dripping with amusement.

Carson withdrew his hand from their hair and looked between them. "Look at us, back together!" He let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on the bench. "You know, I'll tell you lot, life is really bloody boring."

"What have you been doing?" Barty asked.

Carson shrugged. "Not that much. Got a summer internship in the Ministry, so I was doing that for a while. Oh, Bartholomew, I met your dad. You're right, he's a real git. Real stubborn and mean-looking. Doesn't really talk much. Granted, we do work in different departments, but still."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Barty said.

"What department are you working in?" Regulus asked.

"Accounting."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "You're doing accounting?"

Carson shrugged again. "Why not. It's really the only department that I was qualified for that sounded interesting. And besides, I'm the first one of... _his_ followers to work in accounting."

Barty and Regulus widened their eyes, and they looked to one another. They leaned over the table so that they could talk quietly enough that no one would hear. "So, do you have... you know... the mark?" Barty asked.

Carson nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Wanna see?"

Barty and Regulus nodded their heads vigorously. Carson glanced around to be sure that no one was coming or looking over, and he gingerly lifted his left sleeve. Blazing dark and black on his forearm was a snake, twined around a skull. Regulus and Barty looked at the mark in awe, and Carson smirked before yanking his sleeve back down.

"That's so cool!" Barty said, his voice laced with amazement.

"It is, isn't it?" Carson asked, recrossing his arms. "You two are still getting them, yeah?" He looked between the two of them.

"Obviously!" Barty said. Regulus nodded his agreement, though much more unenthusiastic than he would have expected.

Madam Rosmerta reappeared moments later, using her wand to levitate a few plates and cups behind her. With a flick of her wand, she placed the four plates down on the table in front of their respective orderer. Next, she put down the drinks, and two of them found a place in front of Regulus's cup.

"Ah, coffee addiction still going strong, I see?" Carson commented, noticing the mug of coffee that Regulus had ultimately reached for first.

Regulus raised an eyebrow and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh as the warm liquid cascaded down his throat. "You're the one who gave it to me in the first place," Regulus pointed out, placing his mug down onto the table and picking up his fork.

"And it's my biggest regret," Carson said dramatically.

Regulus rolled his eyes and took a bite of his waffles - they were absolutely spectacular. The group of friends ate their breakfast, joking around and laughing with one another. It felt just like it had the year previous, when all of them were still Hogwarts students. Regulus did miss having Carson at the school, but knowing that he would still be dropping in for visits like this definitely made him feel better.

When they were all finished, they paid Madam Rosmerta for their food and headed off, out of the pub. When they reentered the main street of Hogsmeade, it was buzzing with activity. There were students everywhere, filtering in and out of shops, chatting away happily. The four friends walked down the busy street in a group, however it wasn't long before they split off.

Carson and Gillian were walking side by side, Carson with his hands shoved in his pockets and Gillian with her arms hanging at her sides. Barty and Regulus were walking in front of the two of them, looking around the village in excitement.

"Look!" Regulus shouted, and he pointed to what was by far the busiest shop on the street: Honeydukes.

Regulus and Barty quickly ran off towards the shop, and Gillian and Carson stared after him. Carson let out a low chuckle, and Gillian shook her head in amusement. "Look at them go," she said.

"Merlin, look at our children," Carson joked, and Gillian punched him in the arm with a laugh.

Regulus and Barty waded through the crowd inside of Honeydukes candy store. They filled their buckets with chocolate frogs, drooble's best blowing gum, fizzing whizzbees, liqourice wands, sugar quills, pepper imps, salt water taffy, and bertie bott's. Carson and Gillian joined them halfway through, chuckling at the excitement of the two boys.

They exited Honeydukes nearly thirty minutes later, all four of them having a bag of treats from the candy shop. They walked down the cobbled street, Carson and Gillian showing them all of the shops and telling them various different stories that they had experienced. Carson was in the middle of telling a tale about his very own first trip to Hogsmeade and how he had accidentally fallen into the fountain when all four of them heard shouting coming from Hogsmeade square.

They all looked at one another, and then took off running. When they rounded the corner, they saw a group of students forming a circle around the fountain. They ran towards it, shoving their way through to the action.

"Excuse me, excuse me, Hogwarts graduate coming through!" Carson shouted, pushing through in front of the others so that they could all get towards the front.

When they finally emerged from the thick sea of people, they were met with an interesting sight.

Severus Snape had his wand aimed levelly at Sirius Black, who was absolutely fuming. Remus Lupin was standing beside Sirius, wand also raised, his cheeks burning with anger. Evan Rosier was standing with Snape, a wicked smirk on his face, wand pointed directly between the two boys.

Looking around, Regulus noticed that Peter Pettigrew and James Potter were nowhere to be seen. He turned his attention back to the fight that was unfolding in front of him when Sirius began to yell.

"TAKE IT BACK, YOU GREASY ARSEHOLE!" Sirius Black snarled, his eyes nothing but fiery slits of anger staring directly at Severus Snape.

"Take what back, Black?" Severus asked, cocking his head and feigning confusion. Though, he quickly faked a dawning of realization, and he nodded his head slowly. "Oh, you mean about your little boyfriend?"

Regulus's eyes widened, and he looked to the two boys standing opposite the two Slytherin's. "HE'S NOT MY RUDDY BOYFRIEND!" Sirius roared.

Remus Lupin was silent, his hand practically shaking with fury. "Awe, are you upset that your little boyfriend isn't defending you?" Rosier cooed.

Regulus darted his eyes between the two groups, unsure who's side he was taking. Sure, he and Sirius were on the exact opposite of good terms right now, but he positively hated Evan Rosier and Severus Snape.

" _EXPELLIARMUS_!" Sirius shouted, and a stream of red sparks erupted from his wand.

The spell hit Severus Snape's hand, and his wand flew out of it and towards Sirius. Sirius caught the wand from mid air and tossed it onto the ground. Severus Snape grimaced at him, but Evan Rosier kept his wand steadily trained on the two boys. However, Regulus didn't really see how Rosier was going to take on two fourth years, and things were looking up for the Gryffindors, until-

"What's going on?" Augustus Rookwood asked, and he stepped out of the crowd, followed by Mark Mulciber.

Regulus felt a pit forming in his stomach - he had seen Mulciber and Rookwood duel before. They were nasty duelers, and the two boys didn't stand a chance. He looked around desperately, willing James and Peter to show up. As much as he didn't like the four Gryffindor boys, he really didn't think that they should duel the four Slytherins alone.

Augustus Rookwood raised his wand and cocked his head. " _Accio wand_ ," he said, and Snape's wand came flying into his hand.

Regulus gaped at the spell that had just been cast - sure, they learned it fourth year, but Regulus had heard that it was extremely difficult to master. Rookwood handed Severus back his wand, and soon there were four wands pointing directly towards Remus and Sirius.

"Oh, they're done for," Carson murmured, shaking his head and looking between the two groups, "there's no way they can take all of them."

Regulus was thinking exactly the same thing, and he instinctively brought his hand to the pocket that held his wand. When he heard the first spell being uttered, he acted without thinking.

" _ADUSTI_ -"

" _EXPELLIARMUS_!" Evan Rosier's wand went flying out his hand, and it landed into Regulus's outstretched palm.

Carson, Gillian, Barty, Sirius, Remus, Rookwood, Snape, Rosier, and Mulciber all looked at him in shock, until all three of the remaining Slytherin wands turned on him. Carson, Gillian, and Barty all drew their wands as well, pointing them squarely back at the group.

"Don't even think about it, you little rats," Carson snarled.

"Oh, what's the big bad Carson Nott gonna do?" Mulciber asked, raising an eyebrow.

Carson cocked his head. "Hex me friends, and you'll find out."

"Just give me back my wand, and we won't," Rosier said.

Regulus scoffed. "Alright," he raised Evan's wand as though to throw it to him, but threw it into the crowd behind himself instead. He shrugged his shoulders. "Whoops."

However, when Crabbe, Goyle, and Avery stepped out with Evan Rosier's wand in hand, as well as their own, Regulus felt his stomach drop. Avery threw Rosier back his wand, and he turned his wand onto Regulus.

"Remus? Sirius?" James Potter's voice broke through the hostile silence, and all eleven wands turned onto the two other Gryffindor boys who were breaking through the crowd. When he saw what was happening, James quickly patted himself down. However, when he didn't draw a wand, Sirius gave him an odd look.

"Prongs, what the hell are you doing?" He asked, laughing despite the tense situation that he had found himself in.

"I forgot my wand," James mumbled.

"Of course you did!" Sirius said, practically in hysterics, though still keeping his wand as steadily trained as he could.

With Sirius, Remus, James, and Peter all being distracted, Severus Snape took his chance. " _CONFRACTUS_!" He shouted, and a jet of blue light shot directly for James Potter.

Despite his distraction, James was able to dodge the spell with ease. However, when it hit the person standing behind him, a deafening crack of bone echoed through the crowd.

" _MORDAX_!" Remus shouted, stinging Severus Snape's wrist and forcing him to falter in his wand hold.

" _COLAPHUS_!" Augustus Rookwood shouted, and it hit Remus Lupin squarely in the nose. There was an odd sort of cracking sound, and his nose spurted with blood.

Sirius looked at Remus, noticed the blood that was dripping down his face, and he was overcome with a burning fury. " _FURNUNCULUS_!"

A series of pus-filled boils covered Mulciber's face. " _VULONUS_!" Evan Rosier shouted - however, he didn't aim it at any of the marauders. It was aimed directly at Regulus.

It hit the back of his hand, and a slash mark suddenly appeared, dripping blood down his hand, fingers, and onto the cobbled street below. He let out a yelp of pain, squeezing his fist and clenching his jaw to prevent another cry. He raised his wand. " _STUPEFY_!" It hit Victor Crabbe, and he fell to the ground.

" _STIOPPUS_!" Francis Goyle clutched his cheek - which had turned bright red, as though someone had slapped him - and looked up. Sirius Black had his wand raised, and he looked beyond angry.

" _ADUSTIUM_!" Evan Rosier shouted again, and he aimed it, once again, directly towards Regulus.

" _PROTEGO_!" Gillian and Carson shouted at the same time, creating a giant shield in front of him. Rosier's spell bounced off of it and shot up into the air, dissipating before it could reach anything.

" _VOLATILIS LUTUM_!" Remus shouted, his voice nasally and his nose still dripping blood. It hit Avery square in the face, and he fell backwards. Suddenly, a bunch of icky, green colored, and wet looking bats started flying out of his nose.

Evan Rosier moved his wand from Regulus to Sirius. " _CRUC_ -"

" _DISSIO_!" Regulus called, and Evan Rosier was pushed to the ground before he could finish the spell.

"HA! HEY, ROSIER, GET UP WHY DON'T YOU?" Sirius shouted, laughing hysterically at the boy who had fallen onto the ground.

However, his laughter was short lived. Several of the Slytherins had recovered, and all had their wands pointed at either Regulus or the marauders.

"Do it," Sirius challenged, "I dare you."

All hell broke loose.

Sparks were flying every which way, and people in the crowd were having to either dodge or duck rogue spells every few seconds. Regulus had been forced to migrate further and further towards the Gryffindors, for if he didn't, he would have been hexed many times over.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!" McGonagall's shrill voice broke through the crowd, and all of the participants froze. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Itri, and Sprout all broke through the crowd, frantic to see what was going on. They looked at the scene before them, and their faces turned deep shades of crimson.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! YOU GET OFF OF SCHOOL PROPERTY AND THINK THAT IT'S AN EXCUSE TO ACT LIKE A BUNCH OF IDIOTS?!" Regulus didn't think that he had ever seen McGonagall so mad.

Regulus looked around, and he noticed that he was only a few yards away from Peter, James - who had snatched someone's wand from the crowd to help his friends - Remus, Sirius, and Barty was to his left. As he examined the faces of every single person around him, he noticed that they all looked like messes.

Regulus's hand was covered in dry blood, and it was still oozing out, though much more slowly. Remus Lupin's face was covered in dry blood, his eyes were bruised and swollen, and his nose was crooked. James Potter's hair was messier than normal, and he was coughing up a strange, blue substance. Peter Pettigrew had a black eye. Sirius Black was clutching his wrist. Barty Crouch Jr. had broken finger.

Severus Snape had a nasty patch of inflamed skin on his right wrist. Evan Rosier was covered in dirt and pebbles from his fall to the ground. Vincent Crabbe was still passed out on the ground. Francis Goyle's cheek was still red from the slapping hex. Mulciber's face was still covered in boils. Disgusting, snotty bats were still flying out of Mason Avery's nose. Augustus Rookwood also had a broken nose, courtesy of Remus.

" _FINITE INCANTATUM_!" Flitwick called.

Crabbe woke up. The bats stopped coming out of Avery's nose. James stopped coughing up the weird substance.

"ALL OF YOU. WITH ME. _NOW_." McGonagall demanded.

Barty and Regulus shot a look at Gillian and Carson, who were both looking at their two friends in shock. The group of thirteen trudged after McGonagall, adjusting to their injuries and sending fiery glares at one another. Barty and Regulus separated themselves from both groups, not wanting to be with either of them.

"Hey, why'd you hex him?" Barty asked once the two of them were far enough from both groups to talk.

Regulus shrugged. "He was going to use the Cruciatus. I wasn't gonna stand for that."

"He was going to use it on your brother." Barty pointed out.

Regulus nodded. "Doesn't make it right."

Barty was quiet a moment. "I mean, if he really deserved it, then I don't see a problem." He shrugged.

Regulus was silent. He didn't know what to say. Barty couldn't really believe that... right? He couldn't really think that the Cruciatus was justifiable, right? However, when he really thought about it, Regulus might have agreed at some point. Before he felt what it was like, he might've agreed. _No_ , Regulus thought, _no I wouldn't have. I saw what it did to Sirius. I know what it feels like. The Cruciatus isn't justifiable in any way. It doesn't matter if they deserve it._

Regulus looked over at Barty, and it was as though he were seeing him in a whole new light.

When the group finished their trek to the castle, Professor McGonagall turned to Professor Flitwick. "Go get Horace and Albus, please. Tell them to meet in my office."

"Of course, Minerva." Professor Flitwick hurried off.

"You lot. Come with me." She demanded, and continued through the castle.

Professor McGonagall's office was only barely big enough to hold the thirteen duelers, McGonagall, Slughorn, and Dumbledore. However, they managed. Dumbledore, Slughorn, and McGonagall were standing behind McGonagall's desk, fixing every single student with stern gazes.

"Well?" McGonagall asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Someone care to explain?"

All of the occupants broke into speech.

"Snivellus called Remus a slur-"

"-called Severus Snivellus-"

"-was just coming out of the Three Broomsticks!-"

"-caught Rosier's wand-"

"-hexed me!-"

"-broke my ruddy nose-"

"-pushed me over-"

"-cut my hand-"

"-tried to break my ribs-"

"-disarmed me-"

"-was just trying to have a normal day!-"

"-was just trying to defend myself-"

"-started by Sirius-"

"-started by Remus-"

"-started by Snivellus-"

"-started by Regulus-"

"-started by Rosier-"

"-started by Potter-"

" _ENOUGH_!" Dumbledore boomed.

Everyone went silent.

"One at a time, please."

So, they explained.

Sirius and Remus had been sitting on the fountain, minding their business, waiting for James and Peter to get out of Zonko's. Remus was cold, and so Sirius had wrapped his arm around Remus to help warm him up. However, when Snape and Rosier came waltzing down the street they noticed this. Snape, being the wonderful, wonderful person that he has always been, decided to call Remus and Sirius gay.

Sirius, who had a tendency to stick up for his friends, stood from the fountain and raised his wand without a second thought. He didn't care what the consequences may be, he just wanted to stand up for his friends. And, everything else was told just as it had played out, with input from everyone else in the room.

By the time the explanation was finished, McGonagall, Slughorn, and Dumbledore all had serious looks on their face.

"You cannot just go dueling each other, even if you aren't on school grounds!" McGonagall reprimanded them.

"We know," they all muttered - everyone, that is, aside from Evan Rosier, Augustus Rookwood, and Severus Snape. They were all fixing the Gryffindors and the two younger Slytherins with dirty glares.

"All thirteen of you will be having your Hogsmeade privileges revoked." Dumbledore said.

Everyone broke out into protest.

"That's not fair!-"

"-wasn't even our fault!"

"-hexed him first, I was just standing up for him!-"

"-didn't even have anything to do with it until Rosier hexed me!-"

"That's enough," Dumbledore said, raising his hands to silence the group. "I will not be taking any arguments. The thirteen of you have more than proven that you are not mature enough to be allowed into Hogsmeade. Until you can prove me otherwise, that is my final answer.

"As for the punishment-"

"That was a punishment!" Sirius Black shouted.

Dumbledore raised his hands to silence him again. "As for the punishment," he continued, "all of you will be serving detention. At different times, of course, we don't want a repeat of what happened today."

Everyone grumbled their understanding. "Excellent. We will also be taking five house points from each and every one of you."

The Slytherins all groaned - that was forty-five points!

"Off you all go. Minerva, I trust that you will escort them to the hospital wing?"

"Certainly, Professor." McGonagall nodded curtly.

Madam Pomfrey was nothing less of overwhelmed when the group of students burst into the wing. Though, she managed to take care of them quite quickly. She used a simple Episkey on Remus and Rookwood's noses, as well as Sirius's wrist, Barty's finger, and Regulus's cut. So, they were all out of the wing rather quickly.

Augustus Rookwood gave Remus a glare with unmatched intensity. "You'll pay for this, Lupin." He snarled.

Remus raised a challenging eyebrow. "Sure I will, Rookwood."

Rookwood disappeared down the hall, leaving the two third year Slytherins and fourth year Gryffindors alone. The four of them stood in silence, Sirius giving Regulus a fiery glare, and Regulus glaring right back.

Barty cleared his throat. "I'm gonna go, Reg. I'll see you later."

Regulus looked at him and smiled. "Ok. See you later."

Barty walked away, and Regulus went back to glaring at Sirius. "Wow, you sure switch up fast." Sirius said in a condescending tone of voice.

Regulus scoffed. "Yeah, I'm good at separating the people I like from the ones I don't." Regulus shot back.

"Maybe you're just good at separating the ones you love from the ones you don't. What is he, your boyfriend?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous, you stupid git."

"Whatever, Regulus." Sirius said. He was suddenly overcome by a sense of rage. "Why did you even have to butt into the stupid duel?! It wouldn't have even started without you there, you insufferable prat!"

"Oh, so now I'm an insufferable prat for stopping Evan Rosier from melting your skin off _and_ using the Cruciatus on you? Wow, I'd _love_ to know what you call your friends." Regulus snapped.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Like you would care if he used the ruddy Cruciatus on me."

This sent Regulus into a flurry of anger that neither of the brothers had expected. Regulus's eyes filled with furious tears, and he had to fight his jaw and hands from trembling. "Oh really, Sirius? REALLY?! Yeah, because the summer just didn't happen, did it?! MY BIRTHDAY JUST DIDN'T HAPPEN?!" Regulus shook his head and took a few slow steps back from him.

Sirius let out a sigh, and he closed his eyes. "Regulus, I-"

"No, you know what Sirius? You're right. I shouldn't have stepped in front of you." He snapped, and he turned around before Sirius could say anything else.

Regulus couldn't keep the angry tears from cascading down his cheeks as he clenched his fists and stormed down towards the dungeons. In that moment, the duel was forgotten. The joy that he had felt earlier that very same morning had disappeared completely.

Regulus's mind was revolving around one thing, and one thing alone: Sirius Black.

He reached the dorm room faster than he thought he ever had before, and he burst inside. Barty was sitting on his bed, just finishing up with a reread of his Transfiguration essay. He looked up at Regulus, and his expression turned to one of concern.

"Reg? Are you alright?" He asked.

Regulus stood in the middle of the room for a few moments, silent. Barty put his essay down onto the bed and stood up, taking a few cautious steps towards his friend. "Reg?"

"I hate him." Regulus said, his voice shaky with the anger, guilt, sadness, and finality of the statement.

Barty nodded slowly. "I know."

"No, Barty, I... I really... I don't... I don't know, I just... I hate him, but I - and I-" Regulus couldn't find the words to say what he wanted to say.

Barty waited patiently. Regulus looked at him gratefully, and he couldn't keep the tears from welling up in his eyes once again.

"Thank you." He said.

Barty furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "For what?"

"For... I don't know, for being my friend, I guess."

Barty's face broke into a smile. "Of course, Reg."

However, even with those words ringing in the air and the relief washing over him, he still couldn't help but think about what Barty had said earlier. That Barty thought that the Cruciatus was justified.

He wondered, if Barty knew that Regulus's own parents had used it on him, if he would still believe that. Though, he didn't want to bring it up. He wanted to forget about that day. He just wanted to return to the joy that he had felt earlier that morning.

Merlin, he just really, really wanted to go back. To when, exactly, he wasn't sure. All Regulus Black knew, was that he wanted to go back.


	53. Regulus Black's Boggart

Gillian was extremely upset when she discovered that Regulus and Barty had been banned from Hogsmeade for the time being. She wasn't upset at them, though, just that they wouldn't be able to go together. And the boys truly did feel bad about it.

However, Carson was a whole different story. He didn't show how disappointed he was in the letter that he wrote to the boys, which made it that much worse. They could tell that he was probably even more upset than Gillian, seeing as how Hogsmeade was really the only time that the four of them could hang out again.

So, needless to say, they were all in quite somber moods. To add to this, Regulus had been avoiding Sirius completely - he hadn't even been looking to the Gryffindor table at meals.

It was Halloween when anything began to look up, even in the slightest.

Regulus and Barty left lunch, headed straight for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The two of them just wanted to get their classes for the day over with so that they could have fun for Halloween.

They were in the entrance hall, chatting away happily, when they heard a familiar voice. At first, neither of them could quite place it. That is, until the second voice - a voice which was a near carbon copy of Regulus's - came, too. The two of them looked up, and, sure enough, in came the marauders.

They were laughing heartily with one another when they suddenly noticed the two Slytherins. Regulus really didn't want to get into anything with them, so he hurried off with Barty trailing closely behind. He heard Sirius make a snide remark - one that he couldn't quite hear all the way - and then heard James Potter reprimand him for it.

Regulus felt an unexplainable rage boiling up in him at the sound of the older Gryffindor boy defending him. Regulus was still angry with James Potter. Any chance he got, he was rude to James Potter. So why, in the name of Merlin, did he keep defending Regulus? It made Regulus angry. It made Regulus dislike him more.

Though, he pushed through it and headed for Defense; he _really_ just wanted to get this day over with. When he stepped into the classroom, however, he was surprised to find the floor of the room empty once again - it looked how it did the day that they had looked into the Mirror of Erised. Regulus really hoped that he wasn't going to be looking into that mirror again.

"Hello, you two! How's your Halloween going so far?" Professor Wilson asked, his arms crossed tightly over his chest (Regulus had noticed that this was just the normal position of their Defense teacher).

"Hello, Professor Wilson. It's been good, how about yours?" Regulus asked, dropping his book bag to the floor and taking a seat.

Professor Wilson shrugged. "It was alright. Spent half the day wrangling this little bugger," he pointed behind himself, and the two boys looked.

There was a large trunk behind him which appeared to be rattling. They both gave it an odd look, and then transferred said look to their teacher.

"What is it?" Barty asked.

"Today's lesson, Mr. Crouch," said Professor Wilson with a smile.

Regulus didn't think that that trunk would make a very good lesson. He stared at it cautiously as other students flooded into the room, all looking at the box with just as much caution and curiosity. Regulus broke his gaze away from the box just in time to see the three Gryffindor third years.

They were all discussing something that Regulus could only assume to be a muggle movie, though they stopped when they saw the state of the classroom. Professor Wilson smiled at them, asked how their Halloween was, and then told them to sit down.

Benjamin, Francesco, and Deacon sat a few feet away from Regulus and Barty, closer to the box on the ground. Regulus kept his gaze carefully averted from Deacon - he hadn't talked to the boy at all since the night that they heard that strange conversation. And Regulus was quite determined to keep it that way.

"Alright, everyone's here... hello! Welcome to class, I hope you're all having a wonderful Halloween! Today, we're going to be doing another practical lesson. As I'm sure you lot have noticed," he gestured to the rattling box, "we have a special guest. Anyone want to guess what it is?"

Francesco Anderson raised his hand, and Professor Wilson called on him. "It's a boggart."

"Correct! Three points to Gryffindor. Now, can anyone tell me what, exactly, a boggart is?"

Benjamin Stone's hand shot into the air at the same time as Regulus Black's. "Mr. Stone, care to tell us what it is? Mr. Black, you can tell us what, exactly it does."

Benji dropped his hand back into his lap. "A boggart is an amortal non-being."

"Excellent! Another three points. Mr. Black?"

"A boggart is a shape-shifter; it shapes into its opponent's worst fear."

"Fantastic! Three points to Slytherin."

Barty gave Regulus a low high-five. "Are we facing the boggart?" Phoebe asked.

Professor Wilson nodded. "Today, I am going to teach the lot of you the spell to be rid of a boggart. I thought it might be an interesting Halloween lesson. So, everyone, grab your wands."

Everyone drew their wands from wherever they may be, and Professor Wilson nodded in approval. "Excellent. So, the spell that you use against boggarts is called Riddikulus. Repeat after me."

"Riddikulus," the class said in unison.

"Good job. So, this is the wand movement," he demonstrated, and everyone mirrored it. "You guys are doing great! Alright, now lets try them both together."

They did, and Professor Wilson seemed quite pleased. "Ok, so now I want you all to picture the thing that you fear the most." He gave everyone a few seconds. "Got it?"

They all murmured their agreement. "Alright. Now I want you to turn it into something funny. That's what we're aiming for. Does anyone know why?"

Regulus's hand shot up. "Mr. Black?"

"Their weakness is laughter."

"Precisely. Three points. Alright, everyone, stand up, and let's get on with it!"

Everyone hesitantly stood up and made a half circle around the box. Professor Wilson looked around, made sure everyone was there, and then nodded his head. "Ok, who would like to go first? Ms. Wright?"

Lennox looked nervously to Lottie Burton, who gave her an encouraging smile and nudged her forward. Lennox stepped in front of everyone, stared at the box, and raised her wand.

"Ready?" Asked Professor Wilson.

She nodded. He opened the box.

At first, it didn't seem like anything was there. The box had stopped shaking, but nothing was coming out. Then, all of a sudden, a figure emerged. No one could really tell what it was at first - it was quite dark in the classroom, and the boggart hadn't assumed a fully corporeal form.

However, when it gave a low hissing sound and slithered slowly out of the box, shivers went down several people's spines. A large snake slid across the floor, hissing lowly, headed straight for Lennox. She pointed her wand directly at the snake, ignoring the fear that was trying to take over every bone in her body.

" _Riddikulus_!" She announced.

The snake suddenly shrank by several inches, and it sprouted a small top hat, a curly mustache, and a monocle on it's scaly head. The class burst out into laughter.

"Very good, Lennox! Who next? Mr. Travers, what about you?"

Theodore Travers took a step forward, much more confident than Lennox had been. However, when the snake disappeared into an odd cloud-like swirl and then reemerged as a tall, pale man, the entire class went silent. The Dark Lord sneered at Theodore Travers, raising the bone-white wand that Regulus had seen him carry multiple times. Regulus shifted nervously, swallowing back the lump that was rising in his throat.

Theodore Travers froze - he hadn't been expecting to see the Dark Lord! Professor Wilson looked between Travers and the boggart in... no, it couldn't be. Was he... _amused_? Regulus averted his eyes from the boggart, for he couldn't help but think of the real Dark Lord when he saw it.

" _Riddikulus_!" Travers shouted, mustering up the small amount of courage that hadn't run out of him at the sight of his boggart.

The Dark Lord was suddenly wearing something quite absurd instead of his normal, black robes. His robes had gone bright pink, his hair a brilliant shade of blue, and he had on an intricate bit of makeup that much resembled a clown. The class laughed, and Professor Wilson called up Benjamin Stone.

Benji walked up with an air of caution. If he was being honest, Benji had absolutely no idea what his boggart could possibly be; he had never really given much thought to what his worst fear may be. So, he stepped up, looked directly at the clown that Theodore Travers had made the Dark Lord, and he took a deep breath as it began to shift to its next form.

What appeared next was definitely not what anyone had expected.

It was Francesco Anderson. Although, it wasn't anything like the Francesco Anderson that was standing right behind him - this one wasn't alive. Benji looked at it in shock - of all of the things that he had been expecting, this one hadn't even crossed his mind. He stared at it in silence. He couldn't think of a single thing that would make this funny.

But then it changed. It was no longer Francesco Anderson's lifeless body laying on the floor of the Defense classroom, it was Deacon Ackland's. Benji's eyes widened, and he felt a panic rising up in him. He had to look over his shoulder to be sure that it was, indeed, a boggart, and not the lifeless and pale form of his best friend.

Francesco was having a similar reaction. He stared at the boggart with wide, terrified eyes. Several times, he had to look to his right to be sure that the smaller boy was still there.

Regulus was looking between the boggart and Benjamin Stone, wondering what the boy was going to do. Boggarts fed off of fear, and Benjamin Stone was radiating enough of it for five people. Finally, though, Benjamin Stone raised his wand and uttered the spell with a weak voice. Though, the passion behind it was quite enough, and the boggart changed into a rather amusing sight.

Deacon Ackland had on a frilly purple dress with a matching hat, and everyone in the class burst out into laughter. However, Benji still couldn't shake the sight of the boggart. He returned to his place in the circle, an odd look on his face.

"Are you alright?" Deacon asked, looking at his friend in concern.

Benji looked at the boy, and a wave of gratefulness washed over him. Deacon Ackland was ok. Deacon Ackland was alive. And when he glanced to his left, he saw Francesco Anderson. Alive. They were both ok. Benji let out a sigh of relief, and he couldn't help the smile from quirking the corners of his mouth - he couldn't imagine living in a world without his two best mates by his side.

Phoebe Scott was called up next.

Her boggart turned into a rather large and burly looking man with a scarred, wolf-like face. Barty's eyes widened, and he leaned into Regulus. "That's Fenrir Greyback," he hissed.

Regulus's eyes widened, too. Of all of the ways that he had pictured Greyback in his head since discovering that he existed, never once did he picture this. He was a rather terrifying bloke, Regulus did have to admit. Though, he wasn't sure why he was Phoebe Scott's boggart - surely, if it was a werewolf, he would have at least been in wolf form. But no, there stood the human form of Fenrir Greyback, a twisted smile on his face.

" _Riddikulus_!" She announced, and Fenrir Greyback transformed from a human to a wolf, and then to a very nice looking poodle.

The class laughed, and Phoebe went calmly back to her place in the circle. Regulus looked at her, thoughts racing through his mind - he wanted to know why Fenrir Greyback was her boggart.

Evan Rosier was next.

With no surprises, his boggart was also the Dark Lord. He used Riddikulus, and the Dark Lord was suddenly dressed as a very old woman with a cat brooch. Next up was Lottie Burton. Her boggart turned into a giant spider, which she quickly Riddikulused to have plastic bendy straws instead of legs.

"Mr. Black, your go!" Professor Wilson announced.

Regulus reluctantly stepped up, unsure of what he would see. The Dark Lord would make sense. An inferius, perhaps. However, when the boggart twisted itself up and popped into the looming, menacing form of his parents, he was a little surprised.

Why were his parents his boggart? He just wanted to make them proud! He wasn't scared of them! But, he was. He was terrified of his parents most of the time. Terrified that they would use the Cruciatus on him, or that they would disown him, or that they would _kill him_.

When his father raised his wand, and Regulus could see the Cruciatus curse on the tip of his tongue, he gathered every bit of strength that he had. " _Riddikulus_!"

His parents shrunk at a rapid pace, and they were suddenly nothing but two very small toddlers in very big adult clothing. The class laughed, and Regulus stepped back to the circle. Though, he didn't look at anyone. He didn't want to see the sneer on Rosier's face, or the expression that Barty was giving him. He kept his head down.

Francesco was called up next.

He stepped up, feeling a little nervous about what his boggart would be. Surely he wouldn't have the same boggart as Benji, but he didn't really know what else he was afraid of - nothing scared him more than losing the ones that he loved. So, it came as no shock to him when the boggart transformed into the lifeless form of his mother.

Before he could react, it changed to his father. And then the Benjamin. It was changing so rapidly that Francesco didn't have enough time to process - to think of how to make it funny. However, when it changed to Deacon and stopped, he felt his heart drop. Deacon's face was unusually pale, his jaw slack, and his eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling above.

Francesco tried to block the sight out of his mind and focus solely on something - anything - that would make it funny. He couldn't.

Deacon and Benji looked at one another, and then back to the frozen state of their friend. Francesco closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, and he thought of the funniest thing that he could. " _Riddikulus_!"

Deacon Ackland was wearing a rather ugly pink frock, and the class started to laugh. "Why do you guys always put me in dresses?" Deacon groaned.

Benji laughed and slapped Deacon on the back. "Sorry, Dea, but you have to admit, you look rather good in a dress."

Francesco turned around quickly and stood in the circle, not even looking at his two friends. He stared at the floor, not wanting to meet the worried eyes of Benji and Deacon. He just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he had gotten when he saw the bodies of the people that he loved; he never wanted to feel it again.

Barty Crouch Jr. was called up next.

It came as no surprise to Regulus when his boggart turned out to be the Dark Lord. However, Barty didn't seem to give very much of a reaction - he simply cast the spell and took his spot next to Regulus.

"Alright, finally, Mr. Ackland!" Professor Wilson said.

Deacon stepped up with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew exactly what he was about to see. So, it was no surprise when the boggart turned into the tall, terrifying figure of his mother. It wasn't the mother that he had seen in the Mirror of Erised - it was the one that he had grown up with his whole life.

Regulus stared at the woman looming before Deacon - she had an air of familiarity about her. Then, he remembered where he knew her from. She was the woman who had brought Deacon to King's Cross the year before. She must be his mother.

" _Riddikulus_!" Deacon called before the fear could fully take him over.

Professor Wilson nodded his head in approval and used several advanced incantations to wrangle the boggart back into the trunk. "Alright, that was really good! You lot all did very good. I think that that's enough for the day." He gave the students all a smile and then gestured to the door with his right hand, keeping his left arm carefully on his chest. "Have a nice Halloween!"

Francesco Anderson rushed out of the room before anyone else. Deacon and Benji gave one another odd looks, and then they hurried after him. Regulus and Barty walked out side by side.

"We still have an hour until our next class," Regulus said, glancing at the watch on his wrist.

"What do you wanna do?" Barty asked.

Regulus shrugged. "Quidditch?"

"I knew you were gonna say that."

The Halloween feast was spectacular. Regulus, Barty, and Gillian spent the whole night laughing and telling jokes to one another and eating their fill in the food that the house elves had prepared. So, when it was over, they were all quite exhausted.

Regulus and Barty were planning on heading to the common room, but Gillian had other plans. "Hey, where do you lot think you're going?" She asked when the three of them accidentally broke off in the entrance hall.

Barty and Regulus looked at one another and then to Gillian in confusion. "Going to the common room?"

"On Halloween?! Merlin, Carson was right, you two are boring!" Gillian exclaimed. "Come on!"

The two boys reluctantly followed her into the chilly October air. They didn't know where she was leading them, but wherever it was, it seemed quite far away.

"Where are we going?" Regulus asked, vigorously rubbing his upper arms so as to produce more warmth.

"Where do you think?" Gillian called over her shoulder.

Regulus and Barty had no idea. They had no idea, that is, until Barty noticed the path that they were walking on. "The Quidditch pitch?"

"I knew you were the smart one," Gillian said.

"Hey!" Regulus shouted. "I'm smart too!"

"Sure you are, Reg." Barty pat Regulus on the shoulder and smirked.

"Why are we going to the Quidditch pitch?" Regulus asked.

"Did you lot not here?" Gillian turned around so that she was walking backwards, facing the boys.

"Hear what?" They asked in unison.

She rolled her eyes and faced forward again. "Honestly, being friends with blokes so out of touch as you two is really going to impact my social life."

They looked at each other in confusion, but continued to follow her nevertheless. When they reached the pitch, there were people bustling every which way with wands drawn. Regulus and Barty gave each other yet another look - what the hell was going on?

"Gillian!" Valeria Moss called, accidentally dropping the line of shiny orange tinsel that she was levitating.

"Hey, Val!" Gillian said, giving the girl a smile. "Looks great," she looked around the pitch, which was absolutely decked out in Halloween decorations.

"Thanks! Hey, did you happen to pass Harrison on your way down? He's late!"

Gillian shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't."

Valeria let out a vexed sigh. "I swear, he's the one to suggest this whole thing, and then he doesn't even show up?" She suddenly noticed the two third year boys who were standing behind Gillian. "Oh, hullo!"

"Hi," they chorused.

Valeria went back to her decorating, and Gillian led the boys towards a table in the far corner. "What are we doing here?" Barty asked.

"A party," was all Gillian said.

"A party? For what, the whole school?" Regulus asked.

"Precisely! We usually do it every year, but we skipped last year because we didn't really have anyone to organize it. I'll be honest with you lot, this and the midnight Quidditch matches are pretty much the only two occasions when all of the houses get along. Well, mostly." She reached the table, and she pointed to the two of them. "Can you two organize this? Just make it look pretty or something. I have to go help Anika," she pointed to a Ravenclaw girl who was charming a series of black paper bats to fly around.

"Alright," Regulus said with a shrug.

"Thank you," said Gillian, and she gave the two boys a grateful smile.

They watched her hurry off, and then they turned to the table behind them. There were piles of sweets, bags and boxes full of candy, and bottles upon bottles of drinks. They looked at the two long tables that had been pushed together, discussed how to lay it out, and then set to work.

Regulus worked on one table while Barty worked on the other, and it took the two of them less than thirty minutes to finish. When they were done, they took a step back and scanned it with their eyes - it did look rather good.

"Are you two done?" Gillian asked, walking over to them and stopping just behind. "Oh, that looks great! Thank you guys. Really."

"It's no problem." Barty shrugged.

Gillian looked behind herself and noticed that several people were starting to come out onto the pitch. "Well, I guess that's the prep done. Have fun, guys. Seriously." She gave them a smile and then disappeared into the dark.

Regulus and Barty walked around the pitch together, watching as people filtered on and began to socialize with one another. "Did they do this first year?" Regulus asked, turning to look at his best mate.

Barty shrugged. "Dunno. If they did, I guess we didn't know about it."

"Makes sense. We didn't really have any other friends until Carson and Gillian, did we?"

Barty chuckled. "No, not really."

They were both quiet a moment, relishing in the presence of one another. Regulus looked around at all of the students, mingling about with anyone and everyone that they could. Some were still in their robes, some in casual clothing, and some had even dressed up in makeshift costumes.

Regulus thought that this party was probably going to make for a very interesting night.


	54. Halloween 1974

Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone were all sitting in the Gryffindor common room. They had left the Halloween feast and headed straight there, for none of them had any other plans. They were doing homework together, helping one another with the subjects that one of them knew and the others didn't.

This, however, left Deacon quite alone in the subject of Ancient Runes. The only person that he knew in that class was Regulus Black, but the two boys hadn't spoken once inside of the class itself. Regulus was always with Barty, who was also in their class, and so Deacon was alone. He had been hoping that Emerson Reid would take it, but he had changed his mind last minute - he had heard how hard everyone else said it was.

He was only halfway through his translation questions when the four marauders came into the common room. They could be heard laughing uproariously all the way down the stone spiral staircase, so by the time they reached the bottom, all three of the third year boys's eyes were on them.

"Oh, hey you lot!" James Potter said, straightening his glasses on the bridge of his nose and giving the group a smile. "What're you doing?"

"Homework," Benji and Francesco chorused, but Deacon turned quickly back to his work. He really just wanted to get it over with, seeing as how it was due the following Monday, and he really wanted a free weekend.

Remus Lupin stepped closer to the group and craned his neck to see what Deacon was working on. "Ancient Runes?" He asked.

Deacon looked up and nodded. "Yeah. Are you taking it?"

"Merlin, no." Remus shook his head. "I would've failed. I don't think I'm smart enough for that."

"You're smart enough for anything, Moony!" Sirius shouted, draping an arm around Remus's shoulders and grinning at him.

Remus laughed and had to bend over slightly so that Sirius _could_ put his arm around his shoulders - he was quite a few inches taller than him. "Thanks, Padfoot."

The three Gryffindor boys looked at one another - they had always wondered why the marauders had come up with those nicknames for themselves. "You know," Remus continued, seeing how quickly Deacon had turned back to his work, "I think Marlene is taking Ancient Runes. You could ask her for help, if you wanted to."

Deacon gave Remus a grateful smile. "Thanks, I think I will."

Remus smiled back, and then turned back to his friends. "Ready?" They all nodded and started for the portrait hole.

Though, when Sirius noticed that the three boys weren't following, he gave them an odd look. "Are you lot coming?"

"Coming where?" Benji asked.

"The party! On the pitch?" James said, looking between the three of them.

They all looked at him in confusion. "Well, c'mon! Don't wanna stay cooped up in here all night, do you?" Sirius gestured for the boys to follow him.

They all looked at one another, shrugged, and abandoned their homework on the common room table to join the others at the Halloween party on the pitch.

Regulus Black was standing in a sparsely populated part of the field, sipping away at a bottle of butterbeer. Barty had left a few minutes before to go speak with one of the Slytherin's about their Arithmancy class, leaving Regulus alone. He looked around at everyone that filled the pitch, only recognizing a handful of students.

He took another swig of butterbeer and swallowed, glancing to his left with his arms crossed over his chest, when someone came up to him. "Hullo, Regulus," they said, and Regulus looked over at the familiarity of the voice.

Deacon Ackland smiled sheepishly at the boy. Regulus quickly averted his eyes and turned back to the party before him without saying a word. Deacon watched the boy in silence, and then cleared his throat. "How are you?"

Regulus wanted to respond. He really did. It was on the tip of his tongue.

_Don't._

_Why not?_

_Because he's a mudblood!_

_So? Why can't I talk to him?_

_I can't talk to him because he's a stupid mudblood! What would mother and father think? What would the Dark Lord think?_

_It's not that big of a deal. I just want to talk to him._

_I can't._

_Yes I can._

_No I can't._

_Yes I can!_

_He's a mudblood and he_ kissed me _, I can't talk to him! That's disgusting!_

_It's not that big of a deal._

_It is._

_It isn't._

_I want to talk to him._

_I can't talk to him._

_I want-_

"Regulus?" Deacon's voice broke through Regulus's train of thought, and he looked over at the smaller boy, who was wearing an expression of worry. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Regulus responded shortly.

_I mean, technically I did stop thinking about it on the "yes I can" side of things..._

Regulus took a deep breath, checked his surroundings to be sure no one was looking, and then turned his gaze to Deacon. "I'm doing alright." He said in a much nicer tone of voice. "How are you?"

Deacon shrugged. "Considering I saw my own dead body _twice_ in Defense today, I'm doing generally well."

Regulus chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "Yeah, that was an... interesting lesson."

"Were those your parents?"

"Who?"

"Your boggart?"

Regulus nodded his head, though he didn't really want to make eye contact with the boy. "And that was your mother?"

"Yeah..."

The two were silent a moment. Though, as were the normal silences that were shared between the two boys, it was a comfortable one. They both felt at peace just knowing that the other was there. Regulus didn't really know why, but he did feel a rather interesting platonic connection with the boy, and so did Deacon.

The ease at which conversation came between the two boys was one of the main reasons that Regulus was still able to justify what he was doing. If he wasn't supposed to be talking to Deacon, it would be harder to get along with the boy, right?

"Have you finished the Ancient Runes homework?" Deacon asked, trying to strike up conversation.

Regulus shook his head. "Barty and I were gonna work on it tonight, but Gillian brought us out here." He was quiet a moment. "Have you?"

"Nope. I was doing it tonight, too, but your brother and his friends told Fran, Benji, and I to come here, so we did." He shrugged.

"Where are they?" Regulus asked, looking around to be sure that Benjamin and Francesco hadn't been lurking the entire time.

"I think Benji wanted to talk to someone, and Fran said he'd go with him."

"Why didn't you go?" Regulus took another sip of his butterbeer.

"I don't really want to hear Fran going on and on about girls, like he does every time he's at a stupid party," Deacon mumbled, and Regulus looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He often found himself forgetting about Deacon's crush on Francesco. Deacon didn't present it that much, aside from the occasional sad mood that he was in whenever Francesco was with a girl. Regulus had also been spending the last few weeks trying to avoid Deacon at all costs, so that definitely didn't help.

In all honesty, Regulus wasn't really sure why he was trying to avoid Deacon. But, this had become a common theme in the relationship between the two boys. They would get along, and Regulus would completely forget why he was ever trying to avoid him in the first place. Deacon Ackland was just so kind and genuine that - when Regulus was around him in a positive way - he couldn't fathom anyone seriously disliking the boy. But then something would remind him of his parents, or of the Dark Lord, or of the pressures and expectations that were set for him, and he would have to ignore him. He would have to ignore him or risk getting in trouble. It was a never-ending cycle that, Regulus thought, was impacting both of them rather negatively.

"Sorry," Regulus said.

Deacon shrugged. "S'alright."

They were silent again, and Regulus felt his defenses dropping. He was in a more content state in that moment than he had been since Hogsmeade.

"Are you ready for the match Saturday?" Deacon asked.

Regulus nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'm more than ready."

Deacon raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

Regulus chuckled. They were quiet. They were happy. They felt carefree.

Benji was standing behind a crowd of Ravenclaw's, peeking 'round them every few seconds to be sure that the two Hufflepuff girls beyond were still there. Fran was standing next to him, giving him a reassuring smile and keeping a hand clapped firmly on his shoulder.

"You've got this, Benji! She'll love you! And, if she doesn't, then she obviously just doesn't have very good taste, does she?" Fran said.

Benji nodded his head slowly, and then turned to his friend with a worried expression. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me? What do I do?"

"Don't worry, Benji! Like I said, she'll love you."

Ever since Clementine Bates had introduced Gwendolyn Everett to the three third year Gryffindor boys, Benji hadn't shut up about her. He kept going on and on and on about how she was the prettiest girl that he had ever seen and she seemed so sweet and he was convinced that he was in love.

Benji took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back. "Alright. I'm going in."

Fran smirked at him and slapped him on the back. "Good luck."

Benji gave him a nervous smile, and then he walked over to the two girls. Clementine and Gwen were standing across from each other, chatting away happily about how much they enjoyed school, bottles of butterbeer in hand.

Clementine noticed him coming, and she gave him a warm smile. "Hullo, Benji! How are you enjoying the party?" She asked.

Benji stopped in front of them and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Fun. It's fun. I'm having fun. How are you liking it?" Benji asked, smiling sheepishly at her.

Clementine giggled. "I'm having fun." She turned to her friend. "Gwen?"

Gwen smiled shyly at the boy in front of her. "Yeah - er - fun. It's fun." She stuttered, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Benji admired the way that the moonlight glistened on her honey blonde hair, giving it a blue hue. "That's good!" He said, a little too enthusiastically.

Clementine's eyes darted between the two of them in amusement, and she quickly downed the rest of her butterbeer. "Oh no, looks like I'm out," she held up the empty bottle, "looks like I'll have to get more. I'll be right back. You two can keep each other company, right?"

"Sure," Benji said hastily, and Gwen nodded her head.

"Great!" She gave them a bright smile and then turned around, disappearing into the crowd beyond.

She broke through the other side and quickly turned around to peak at the two through the group of bodies. "Clementine!" Someone shouted, and she turned to see Francesco Anderson walking briskly towards her.

"Hullo, Fran," she gave him a smile, and then went back to looking. Francesco looked to where her gaze was, and his face seemed to brighten.

"Does she like him?" He asked.

She nodded her head quite vigorously. "Merlin, yes. He's all she can talk about. That's the reason I introduced her to the group of you. She desperately wanted to meet him." Clementine looked at Francesco with a hopefulness on her face. "Does he like her?!"

He nodded his head with the same amount of vigor. "For the past few weeks its just been Gwen this and Gwen that."

"Good! Good, ok, so they can work, right?"

"I hope so," Francesco and Clementine found a singular gap that was big enough for both of them to see through; Francesco was peering from above Clementine so that, if one were to look from the other side, it would just look like their heads were stacked atop one another.

Gwen and Benji shared a laugh, and Clementine let out a squeal of excitement. "Look at them!"

"Five galleons says they're dating by Christmas," Francesco said.

Clementine turned her head so that she was looking directly into Fran's eyes and raised a brow. "You're on."

Regulus left Deacon after a few minutes of conversation to find his friend. It took a few minutes, and a lot of almost accidentally speaking to the wrong person, but he found Barty. He was just getting a cup of purple liquid from the table when Regulus stepped up next to him.

"Oh, hey Reg!" Barty said, smiling at the boy and taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey, Barty. Did you get what you needed about Arithmancy?"

Barty nodded. "Yeah. I just needed to ask what part of the curriculum they were on already."

"Why are you even studying it? I mean, I get that you want to have a lot of O.W.L.'s, but that sounds very difficult."

Barty shrugged. "Dunno. I just want to learn a lot of things, I s'pose."

"Fair enough."

The two stood in silence for a few minutes, sipping away at their respective beverages, analyzing the dynamic of the party. "Hey, why d'you reckon Phoebe Scott's boggart was Greyback?" Barty finally asked, shattering the silence that had found a comfortable place between them.

Regulus shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe it's just because he's a well known werewolf? I mean, she could just be scared of werewolves in general."

Barty shook his head. "I doubt it. Why wouldn't he be in werewolf form?"

"I was thinking that too..."

Barty was quiet a moment. "Should we ask?"

"Do you think that might be a little insensitive? I mean, it's obviously her worst fear. I don't know if we should bring it up again."

"I think it should be fine. If she doesn't wanna tell us, then I guess that's that. But it can't hurt to ask, right?"

Regulus nodded slowly. "I guess."

And so, the two boys set off on their mission to find Phoebe Scott.

Deacon Ackland was wandering the crowds of people that filled the pitch, looking for his friends. If he was being honest, he was quite tired, and he really just wanted to get back to his dorm room and sleep.

Eventually, he found Fran and Clementine, craning their necks to see Benji and Gwen. He walked up behind them, accidentally startling Clementine. She jumped, but let out a breath of relief when she saw that it was Deacon.

"Oh, hullo Deacon! I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?" She took Deacon into a tight embrace.

"Hi, Clementine," he hugged her back and smiled. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic!" She looked him up and down with a bright smile. "You look wonderful!"

He looked down at what he was wearing. It simply consisted of a pair of blue drainpipe jeans and the white oxford that he had been wearing for school. "Uh - thanks?" He said. He looked at her outfit, which was a simple yellow dress that reached just above her knees. "You look good, too."

"Thank you very much," she said, smiling warmly.

"THEY'RE TOUCHING EACH OTHER!" Francesco hissed, and both of the others looked at him in surprise.

Clementine hurried over and peeked through a gap in the crowd. Deacon followed suit, unsure what exactly they were looking at. However, when he looked around one of the Ravenclaw's ahead of him, he saw Gwen and Benji talking to each other. Gwen had a hand reached out, and she was holding his arm as they laughed with one another. He watched with Clementine and Francesco for a while, but he was becoming increasingly more tired with every minute that passed. Finally, he stifled a yawn and backed away from them.

"I'm gonna go back to the common room," they both turned around to look at him.

"You're not leaving already?" Clementine asked, disappointment clear on her face.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired. We have classes tomorrow, too, and I still have to write down one last dream for the Divination dream journal thing." He said.

Francesco shifted his weight a bit, and then he looked to Clementine. She gave Deacon a smile and then a tight hug. "We'll have to hang out soon, darling," she said.

"Yeah, we will," Deacon assured her, and he backed out of the hug.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" Fran asked.

"No, no it's ok. If you don't want to, that's fine." Deacon assured him, giving him a small smile.

"It's alright. I was going to head back soon, anyways." He turned to Clementine. "Can you let Benji know if he asks?"

She nodded her head and gave a Deacon a secretive smirk. "Yeah, definitely."

Deacon furrowed his brow at her, unsure what the smirk meant. When Fran could no longer see her, she raised an eyebrow at Deacon.

"It's him, isn't it?" She mouthed.

Deacon felt a flush creeping onto his cheeks, and he didn't confirm nor deny. Clementine's smile widened, and Deacon quickly turned around.

He and Francesco maneuvered their way out of the party, trying to dodge the students who kept stepping into their path. When they were off of the pitch, they walked in silence on the undisturbed path.

Deacon glanced at the boy, taking in the way that the moonlight reflected on his tanned skin. "Are you alright?" He asked finally, breaking the silence that had found a home between the two.

Francesco looked at Deacon, and they locked eyes. Francesco felt a weird sort of fluttering in his stomach, and he quickly looked away. "Uh - yeah, yeah I'm fine. Why?"

Deacon shrugged. "You've just been acting sort of off since Defense today."

Fran's muscles tensed, and he focused very hard on the uneven ground ahead of him. "Yeah, I'm alright. Are you?"

Deacon nodded his head. "I'm fine." Deacon averted his gaze from Fran, and he looked at the large oak tree that the two were just passing. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been... different, for the past few months."

Fran nodded his head, but he didn't say anything. So, in actuality, Deacon didn't think that he had responded at all. They were quiet.

"Are you ok?" Fran asked.

Deacon thought about his options for a response. "What do you mean?"

"I know that you've been really sad lately, I just don't know why."

Deacon shrugged. "I'm alright."

Fran looked to his left, and he stared at the boy beside him. His eyes roved over his face, tracing his features and taking them all in. Deacon could feel his gaze on him, and he quickly turned his head. When their eyes met again, Deacon could feel butterflies erupting in his stomach, and an increase in his heart rate.

"What?" He asked, though his voice was much quieter than normal.

Fran stared into Deacon's eyes for a few more seconds, not responding. However, he suddenly became painfully aware of the tension that was rising between the two, and he looked away. "Nothing." He said; he sped up his walking pace, and Deacon stared after him with a sense of curiosity.

He didn't know why, but he had gotten a certain feeling from the interaction that he had never gotten before. It was almost... well, it almost felt like the feelings could've been mutual.

Milo Black stepped through the floo network in Dumbledore's office, brushing off his clothes and coughing up the bit of soot that had entered his lungs. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, unfazed by the sudden appearance in his office.

"Hello, Mr. Black," he said, his eyes roving over the document in front of him. 

"Headmaster," Milo said, and he sat down in the seat across from Dumbledore's desk. "Where are the others?"

"I expect that they should be arriving right about-" there was a commotion from outside of the office door, and Dumbledore looked at Milo from over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "-now."

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, Amiyah Cole, and Edgar Bones stepped into the office. Milo turned around in his seat to look at them, and quickly stood.

"Milo," Kingsley said, giving the wizard a smile and a small nod of the head.

"Hello, Kingsley," Milo said, returning the smile and nod.

"Where are all of the students? It's Halloween! Gid and I were always running wild in the halls!" Fabian Prewett commented.

"They've organized a Halloween party on the pitch that they think we're unaware of." Dumbledore said, scribbling a quick signature onto a document.

"Ah, yes, the annual Halloween party," Kingsley said. "I remember those."

Dumbledore organized the stack of paperwork on his desk and stood up, smiling warmly at the newest occupants. "Glad you all could make it. The Stone's could not?"

Alastor Moody shook his head. "Paisley is in France for a few days - work - and Lochland had a lot of paperwork he still needed to get done," he replied gruffly.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Well, then this will just have to do." He stepped around the desk and, with a flick of his wand, conjured the same board that Moody, Kingsley, Milo, and himself had used months before after the attack on Hogsmeade. However, this time, there were new letters.

"What's this?" Milo asked, taking a step closer and looking the letters over to be sure that they were, indeed, different.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, last night was the full moon." Dumbledore began, pacing in front of the board and looking at the Resistance members that stood in front of him.

"There was an attack?" Amiyah Cole asked, alarmed.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Simply another message. I was hoping that - with the combined forces of us all - we could solve it much quicker than last time."

"Where was it?" Edgar Bones asked as Milo Black approached the board and counted the number of letters.

"Wittshire." Dumbledore responded, watching as Milo reached out and began rearranging letters.

"Wittshire?!" The Prewett twins asked in unison.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. The Daily Prophet has not printed the information yet at my request, but it will be going out in tomorrow's paper. I wanted to see if we could discover what it meant first."

"Well, we certainly can," Milo muttered, and he took a step back to look at the letters once again.

"We have every house here, we'll do it, easy!" Gideon Prewett said.

"Every house? Who's the Slytherin?" Fabian Prewett inquired, looking to his brother.

Milo Black raised his hand, and Fabian let out an 'oh' of understanding.

"Well, let's get on with it," Amiyah Cole said, and she stepped up beside Milo to begin their deciphering.

James Potter was standing with Remus and Sirius, a drink in hand and a smile on his face. Remus and Sirius were talking about their Muggle Studies class, going on and on about how interested Sirius was in the concept of a motor bike. Peter had gone off to get the boys some sweets, and had been gone for several minutes.

James was scanning the crowd, looking for one girl in particular. "Hey, have either of you seen Evans?" He asked.

Sirius and Remus shook their heads. "She's probably somewhere ignoring you, Prongs." Sirius said, clapping his best mate on the shoulder.

James shook Sirius's hand off of his shoulder and waved a dismissive hand. "Oh come on, Evans wouldn't ignore me! She loves me!"

"She hates you," Remus and Sirius chorused.

"Does not," James argued

Sirius and Remus gave one another disbelieving looks. "Alright, Prongs, whatever you say."

James downed the rest of his drink. "I'm gonna go get another drink."

"Don't harass Lily too much, Pronsgy," Sirius called after him.

James gave Sirius his middle finger and then disappeared into the crowd. Remus and Sirius stood where they were for a bit in silence, just looking around at their surroundings.

"Wanna go transfigure peoples cups into mice?" Sirius asked.

Remus looked at him with a smirk on his face. "I'd love to."

Regulus and Barty arrived back in the Slytherin common room nearly twenty minutes later. They had been looking for Phoebe at the party, but when they deduced that she wasn't there, they checked the only other place that they could think of.

Sure enough, Phoebe Scott was sitting in one of the plush chairs before the fire. She had a cup of tea in her hands, and she had a levitation charm cast on her book. She looked up at the sound of the two boys entering and gave them a smile.

"Hello," she said, and she turned back to her book.

"Hi," Barty and Regulus chorused.

Phoebe flicked her wand and the page of her book turned. Barty and Regulus walked to the couch and sat down, watching the girl in interest.

She glanced at them and raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

"Why was your boggart Fenrir Greyback?" Barty asked.

Regulus looked at the boy, surprised by the straight-forward nature of his question. Phoebe used her wand to lower the book onto the coffee table, and she stowed it in the pocket of her jumper.

"Why?" She asked, setting down her cup of tea and absently running her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair.

The boys shrugged. "Just wondering," Regulus said.

She nodded her head slowly. "He killed my mum." She finally said.

Regulus and Barty looked at one another uncomfortably, and then back to the girl in the chair. "I was seven," she began, noticing the curiosity that was still clear on their faces, "and I was out with my dad. We had gone to Diagon Alley for the day - my mum didn't want to come because she said she had "important business to attend to". So, when my dad and I came home, we expected her to be waiting - she would always do that. Whenever we would leave the house, she would always be waiting on the front porch for us when we came back.

"But, when she wasn't on the porch, my dad told me to wait outside. I heard him yelling from inside, and I ran after him. Fenrir Greyback was standing in our living room, and my mum was on the floor. Her throat was torn out."

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed. Regulus and Barty didn't know what to say, and Phoebe Scott was looking between them in interest. "I'm sorry." Barty finally said.

"So am I," Regulus said, and he looked sympathetically at the girl.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It was a long time ago. It's easier to talk about now."

"Do you know why? Why he attacked her, I mean." Regulus asked.

She shook her head. "We never found out. There was nothing in any of her journals or notes or anything."

He nodded his head slowly. From what little information Regulus had gathered since hearing about Greyback, he had deduced that he probably wouldn't need a reason to kill someone. However, he didn't really understand why he would have gone out of his way to kill Phoebe's mum; especially in her own home.

"Who was your boggart? Were those your parents?" Phoebe asked Regulus.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Barty looked to Regulus, too; he had been wondering the same thing since their Defense class.

Regulus shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "Dunno. It's not like I'm actually scared of my parents or anything. Must've... I don't know... been a mistake."

Phoebe and Barty both nodded their heads, but they looked to one another in disbelief. Regulus tried to ignore this, and he focused solely on the expression that Barty had on his face once the disbelief had faded. It appeared that he had a sort of twinkle in his eye when he looked at Phoebe, and Regulus felt the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. He had a feeling that there was a lot more to Barty's feelings towards the girl than he was letting on.

Amiyah Cole let out a sigh of frustration and pinched the bridge of her nose. "There are too many ruddy letters. We'll never figure this out."

Milo Black made the word "the" and then stepped back, putting his hands on his hips and giving an equally-as-irritated groan. "She's right. There's no way we can figure this out by morning."

"Is that "fall"?" Gideon Prewett asked, pointing to four letters.

"That's what I thought, but what would the other letters make?" Kingsley asked.

"Will," Alastor Moody added.

"Ok," Milo arranged the letters into their three words. He stepped back and counted the ones that were left over. "That's still ten letters."

"What the hell does it mean," Edgar Bones muttered, stepping up to the board. "The blank will fall? The fall will blank?" Amiyah and Milo both looked at the board, their eyes roving over the remaining letters.

"Hang on," said Gideon Prewett. He stood from the chair that he had taken a seat in and walked to the board.

Everyone else stepped back, and Gideon looked at the letters with narrowed eyes. Fabian was suddenly at his side, and the twins looked to one another. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Gideon asked.

They both nodded their heads and then approached the board, rearranging the letters into the final word. They placed it into the sentence, and every single occupant of the room took a step back.

_THE RESISTANCE WILL FALL_

"Well," said Kingsley, crossing his arms and reading the sentence over, "that's reassuring."


	55. Watch Your Back

When the Daily Prophet was released the next day, it sent a panic through the school. Every house table was buzzing with activity - whether that activity be fear, adrenaline, or sorrow.

The names of the bodies on which the letters had been carved were released with the paper. There were people all across the hall reading those names and praying that they wouldn't find the name of one of their loved ones.

The Slytherins, however, had had a very different reaction. Many of them had started a contest of sorts - first person to figure out what the letters spell out wins. Regulus did not participate.

On Saturday, 2 November, Regulus awoke at three o'clock in the morning. He had been having a nightmare - well, more like reliving a terrible memory - and woke up with a start. His heart was beating double its normal rate, his breathing was heavy, and he was drenched in sweat. He felt as though the muscles beneath his skin were twitching in reaction to the Cruciatus that he had just endured in the dream, and he was just waiting for the blinding pain to start. When it didn't come, Regulus let out a sigh of relief. Though, it didn't help the shaking of his hands.

He tried to lay back down and go to sleep, but the adrenaline from the match that would be played later that very day and the dampness of his pyjamas made that quite impossible. So, he gave up, got up from his bed, and grabbed his clothes for the day.

Regulus had been planning on taking a shower after the match, but he was convinced that he would feel rather grimy throughout the day if he didn't take one now, too. So, he left the dorm and headed into the bathroom which was connected to the landing just one below his own. When he walked in, it was to find that it was completely empty.

He walked to one of the shower rooms, locked the door behind himself, and placed his clean clothes onto the shelf that hung on the wall. On the shelf just below that one, there was a stack of towels.

Regulus placed his wand - which he had grabbed just in case - onto the shelf beside his clothes. He turned 'round and gripped the knobs of the shower, turning it on and adjusting the water to his desired temperature. After getting undressed and tossing his clothes into the small laundry bin in the corner (Regulus wasn't exactly sure how it worked; they would toss the clothes in, they would disappear, and they would reappear folded on their beds within the hour), he hopped into the shower.

The water was hot - almost scolding - which was exactly how Regulus liked it. He felt the hot water cascading down his back and running through his curly black hair, and he let out a sigh of contentment. He washed his hair, which had grown out by almost an inch since his return to Hogwarts.

When he was finished in the shower, he used the towel to dry himself off and soak out most of the moisture from his hair. He got dressed, tossed the towel into the laundry, and left the bathroom with his wand in hand.

His hair wasn't completely dry, but he hadn't learned the Hot Air charm yet, so it hung in damp clumps around his head. He stopped on the landing just outside of the bathroom, trying to decide where to go. Should he return to the dorm room, or go down to the common room until one of his friends awoke?

He decided to go down to the common room, but not without grabbing his homework. Regulus walked into his dorm room, completely silent, and grabbed his book bag.

Regulus spent the next few hours in the common room, pouring over his homework. He finished his Ancient Runes translation after nearly an hour, and moved onto Care of Magical Creatures. This was the homework that he actually liked, for it was the most interesting subject to him.

His homework that was due on Monday was fairly easy, as well, so it didn't take much time at all. He had to finish and neaten his bowtruckle sketch and write a paper on the traits of the creature, as well as a detailed description of what they ate. It took him less than an hour, and he read it over proudly when he was finished.

When he glanced at the clock, it was nearing six in the morning. He knew that people would probably be waking up soon, so he went for the shortest bit of homework he had left. He faked a dream for his Divination dream journal - he didn't really want to write about his nightmare, especially not when someone in the class would be reading it - and slipped it back into his bag. Next, he started on the History of Magic essay.

"Morning, Reg," Barty croaked from the boys's dormitory staircase.

Regulus looked up from his essay and gave his best mate a smile. "Morning," he quickly stowed all of his homework away into his book bag, and Barty plopped down onto the couch that Regulus was sitting in front of.

"How long have you been up?" Barty asked, stifling a yawn and rubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Since three, I think," Regulus responded, putting his hands on either side of the couch and lifted himself onto it.

Barty looked at him in surprise. " _Three_? Why?"

"Had a bad dream," Regulus said simply, shrugging his shoulders and stretching his arms up into the air.

"Are you alright?" Barty asked, concerned.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was just... I dunno, came as a shock, I s'pose. Couldn't get much sleep after, so I showered and came down here."

"You could've woken me, you know." Barty said, sincerity clear on his face.

Regulus gave him a smile. "Thanks, Barty."

"No problem," he smiled back.

"Hullo, boys!" Gillian was suddenly behind the couch, draping her arms around each of their shoulders and sticking her head between them. "How are you two doing on this fine morning?"

"Fine," they chorused.

"Regulus, are you ready to kick some Gryffindor arse?" She asked, excitement clear in her voice.

"Yeah!" He replied, a grin on his face.

"Excellent! Come on, let's get going to breakfast! You need your strength! And Barty, you just need to eat. Don't want you getting all malnourished on us."

"Alright, just give me a minute. I need to run this up to the dorm," he held up his book bag.

He stood from the couch and rushed up the boys's dormitory stairs. He passed several people on the way, all of whom looked at the boy in an odd way as he ran past them.

When he reached the dorm, he passed Theodore Travers, who was on his way out. He hoped that maybe he had just missed Evan Rosier, but he was painfully aware that he hadn't when he stepped into the room.

"Hey, Black," Rosier sneered from where he was standing beside his bed, "where's your little boyfriend?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Shove off, Rosier," he snapped, and he quickly dropped his book bag onto his bed beside the folded pyjamas from the night before that had magically appeared.

When Regulus turned around, Evan Rosier was standing behind him with a sneer on his face. "I haven't forgotten what you did at the beginning of the year, Black," he hissed.

"Good for you," Regulus said in a flat tone, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

Evan Rosier leaned in so that the two boys's faces were mere inches apart, and Regulus could feel Rosier's breath on his face as he spoke. "You're going to pay for what you did, Black. Don't think that you won't."

Regulus stared at Rosier with unmatched intensity. "Interesting. I'd love to know what kind of scheme you'll plan next."

He stepped to his left and walked around the boy, headed straight for the dorm room door. However, Evan Rosier reached out a hand and grabbed Regulus's wrist - hard.

Regulus turned around and glared at him. "Let go of me," he demanded, attempting to wrench his wrist out of Rosier's hand.

Evan Rosier tightened his grip and stared at Regulus with narrowed eyes. "Watch your back, Black. You never know when something will happen."

Regulus successfully pulled his wrist out of Evan's grip, but not without a sharp pain shooting up his arm. "Good to know. Thanks for the lovely chat," and he hurried out of the dorm room before Rosier could stop him.

He hurried down the stairs, cradling his wrist and trying to massage away the sharp pain with his left hand. When he reached the common room, Barty and Gillian were deep into a conversation. They both looked up at the echoing footsteps, and a smile crossed their faces.

"Hey Reg! Ready to go?" Barty asked.

Regulus plastered a smile onto his face and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

They walked to breakfast together, Barty and Gillian still fully immersed in their conversation. Regulus didn't mind, for he had a lot of thoughts running through his brain that he needed time and silence to work out. What did Evan Rosier mean? What was he going to do?

"Reg? You alright?" Barty asked.

Regulus was broken from his train of thought, and he quickly turned to his two friends. "Huh?"

"You look a bit lost there," Gillian commented.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just - er - excited for the match today." He said.

"You'd better be! We need you in top form to beat those Gryffindor's!" Gillian said.

Regulus thought about the pain in his right wrist, but he tried his best to suppress it. "Yeah, I am. Don't worry."

Regulus ate his breakfast more slowly than he normally did. His wrist hurt whenever he moved his hand, and this made eating much harder than it should have been. Gillian and Barty kept asking if he was ok, to which he kept giving them a simple yes.

After breakfast, Regulus and Gillian hurried to their dorms so that they could grab their brooms for the game. Barty waited in the common room, and when the two of them came down, the group walked to the pitch together.

They split off outside of the locker rooms, Barty to head up to the stands and Gillian and Regulus to get changed for the match. When they entered, Harrison Willis and Wyatt Pearce were already inside. The two of them were laughing along with something that one of them had said, and they looked up at the sound of the two new occupants.

"Hey, guys! Ready to win?" Gillian asked, leaning her broom up against the bench and walking towards the Quidditch supply closet.

"Yeah!" The two boys chorused.

Regulus leaned his own broom against the bench and opened up the locker that contained his Quidditch uniform. Gillian came back a few seconds later with a big box, which she opened and began to rifle through.

"Regulus!" She called. He looked over just in time to have her toss him his new Quidditch jersey. He caught it with ease, but it sent a sharp pain up his arm. He winced from the pain, but didn't gave much of a physical reaction - he really didn't want anyone to know that he had a hurt wrist on the day of their first Quidditch match.

Wyatt Pearce gave him an odd look, but he didn't say anything. Regulus got changed into his uniform and then sat down on his bench. Gillian came up next to him, plopping down and draping an arm 'round his shoulders.

"You ready?" She asked.

He nodded his head. She smiled and leaned back, her shoulder blades resting on the lockers behind her. "We'll win for sure," she said in absolute confidence.

"Yeah, we'll do great," Regulus responded, trying to ignore the nerves that were rearing up inside of himself.

The rest of the team arrived, and Gillian handed all of them their jerseys in turn. There was chatter filtering into the locker rooms from the stands, and it wasn't doing anything to ease Regulus's nerves. Gillian, however, was practically radiating nervous energy. The closer the start of the match came, the more she would pace.

Regulus was leaning against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest, reassuring Gillian that the match would be fine. "You won the game that you were captain for last term, right?" Regulus asked, hoping that it would aid in easing her anxiety.

"Yeah, one of them. I have a fifty percent success rate." Gillian said, and the span of area that she was pacing became shorter.

"Well, we'll just have to make it... what would it be... sixty-six?" Regulus had never really learned maths when he was younger - as far as the Black's were concerned, it was not an important subject that their sons needed to know. It was often replaced by lessons of etiquette and dancing.

"I think so," Gillian said, but she was still fiddling with her fingers nervously.

"Gillian, it'll be fine. Even if we don't win, it'll still be alright! Not like they're going to kick you off as captain just because you lost one match."

"They kicked Carson off as captain," she pointed out.

"Yeah, because he fought Evan Rosier. Besides, we won the first match last year, remember?"

She nodded her head slowly. Gillian stopped pacing, closed her eyes, and took a very deep breath. "You're right." She turned to him and gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Regulus."

He waved a dismissive hand, "It's nothing."

Gillian called the team over to herself, and they all crowded around her. They were all holding their brooms, and the Beaters both had their bats in hand. "Alright, everyone, the match is going to start soon," Gillian began, looking around at everyone in turn. "Just a few things before we go out there. Just try your best. However, if we don't win, I can promise you we will have so many early morning practices that you will all be on the brink of sleep deprivation. Understood?"

They all grumbled their agreement. "Excellent! Now, be ready for when we have to go out to the pitch," and she returned to her pacing.

Regulus was just about to go join her when someone stopped him. "Hey, Regulus," Wyatt Pearce was suddenly standing in front of him, a smile on his face. "Can we talk a mo'?"

"Uh... sure?" Regulus said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

Wyatt Pearce led Regulus to the doorway of the locker rooms, stepping just outside of it so that they would still be able to hear Gillian if the game started. Without a word, he held out his hand. Regulus looked at it, and then looked up at the expectant look on Wyatt's face. "What are you doing?" He inquired.

"I don't know why you aren't telling Gillian that you hurt your wrist, but a Seeker with a hurt wrist isn't a very useful Seeker. Come on," he motioned for Regulus to put his wrist in Wyatt's outstretched hand.

Regulus hesitantly did just that, and Wyatt pulled his wand from where it was stowed in his Quidditch robes. "Why aren't you telling her, anyways?" He asked, moving Regulus's wrist so that he could get a good look at it.

Regulus shrugged. "It's not that bad, I can still play. Pomfrey would probably heal it and then tell me that I couldn't play the match."

"Alright, that's fair enough, I s'pose. How'd you hurt it?"

"I - er - fell."

"Alright, don't tell me." Wyatt mumbled, and he pointed his wand at Regulus's wrist. "This may smart just a bit. _Episkey_ ," there was a crack, and Regulus clenched his jaw to keep from audibly expressing the pain. Though, it quickly dissipated, and Wyatt released his wrist. "There. Good as new. I would try to avoid any Bludgers, though. Can't promise that it won't snap."

"Where'd you learn to do that? Aren't you a fifth year?" Regulus asked, massaging his wrist with his left hand.

Wyatt shrugged. "Mum's a healer. Been teaching me spells since I was young."

Regulus nodded his head slowly and moved his wrist around, enjoying the lack of pain that came along with it. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just try not to hurt your wrist again before the next match, wouldn't want this to become a regular thing."

The two boys reentered the locker room just in time to hear Gillian calling them all over yet again. Wyatt and Regulus hastened over to the group, and Gillian gave them an odd look but didn't comment. "You lot ready?" She heard a smattering of different responses. "Alright, well you'd better be. Let's get on with it."

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" The announcer - a Ravenclaw girl by the name of Pandora Fernsby - called. "Here comes the Slytherin Quidditch team! We have captain and Chaser, Gillian Fairman!" Applause broke out from the Slytherins, and many of the other houses applauded as well. "Alongside Gillian Fairman, we have Chasers Wyatt Pearce and Maddox Jugson!" The two boys grinned as their friends cheered wildly for them. "Next up, we have Beaters Mark Mulciber and Zakaria Gibbon! For Keeper, we have Harrison Willis! And, finally, Seeker, Regulus Black!"

Next, the Gryffindor Quidditch shot out onto the field. "Next up, we have the Gryffindors! Keeper and team captain, Andrei Carter! For Chasers, we have Mila Barnes, Ellie Atkinson, and James Potter!" The Gryffindors absolutely exploded in applause for their captain and Chasers. "Beaters, we have Marlene McKinnon and Sirius Black! Finally, we have Deacon Ackland as Seeker!" Benjamin Stone and Francesco Anderson went absolutely wild.

The teams met in the middle of the pitch, and Andrei Carter and Gillian Fairman shook hands. They backed away from each other, and Regulus scanned the other team; they had two new Chasers who Regulus had never heard of. The two team had naturally ordered themselves in a way that - aside from Gillian and Andrei, and therefore Harrison as well - the players were across from their opposite team counterparts. Regulus was across from Deacon, who was looking at the new members of the Slytherin team with just as much curiosity.

Walden Macnair hadn't tried out for the team that year, for reasons that no one else knew; so, they had gained a new Beater. He was a sixth year by the name of Zakaria Gibbon. Regulus had never met him, but he knew of his parents; they were both among the Death Eaters. The same went for their new Chaser, Maddox Jugson. He was a seventh year, and Regulus vaguely recognized him from the meeting at the end of the summer.

Madam Hooch opened up the box of Quidditch supplies and released the Snitch. It flew up into the air and paused between the two Seekers, giving them a good look of itself. It was much less windy this year than it had been the year before, which made for a much easier played game.

Within seconds of the Bludgers and Quaffle being released, James Potter had snatched the Quaffle out of the air and barreled down the pitch towards Harrison Willis. Harrison had remembered the way that James Potter usually played from the year before, and so he was ready when James tried to psych him out. He grabbed the Quaffle right before it passed through the bottom left ring, and he tossed it downwards. Gillian Fairman was ready, and she zipped directly down and caught the Quaffle from midair.

Regulus was watching from the outskirts of the game (he had decided to begin a new approach to finding the Snitch, if only for one game) as Wyatt Pearce tried to make a goal, which was deflected by Andrei Carter. It was nearly five minutes before the first goal was made by Ellie Atkinson. Needless to say, the teams were very well-balanced.

Also well-balanced were the two Seekers. Despite Deacon and Regulus's entire summers which passed without a mere minute of flying practice, they had both spent much of their free time practicing. So, when they both zipped 'round the pitch looking for the Snitch, neither were at any particular disadvantages.

After forty minutes of equal skill and little activity, Andrei Carter called a timeout. "Time out called by Gryffindor captain, Andrei Carter!" Pandora called, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle to pause the game.

All of the teams descended from the skies and touched down onto the grassy earth below. Gillian called the Slytherin team over, and Andrei called the Gryffindor team on the other side of the pitch. All of the Slytherins were sweaty, tired, and breathing heavily.

"Have you seen the Snitch yet?" Gillian asked Regulus, putting her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest in an attempt to better steady her breathing.

Regulus shook his head. "I haven't seen it, not even once." He responded.

Gillian nodded her head. "Alright, just keep looking."

"I will," he assured her.

She turned to Mulciber and Gibbon. "You two are doing good, just work better at aiming and stop only trying to hit their ruddy Seeker. If he isn't even going after the Snitch, it's a waste of effort. Go for the other Beaters or the Chasers."

They both nodded. "Pearce, Jugson, you're doing great. Just try to come up with some new techniques. Wyatt, Carter has been Keeper for the past three years. He knows the way we play. We need to play differently if we want a chance at winning. There's a reason Gryffindor is twenty points above us."

The two Chasers nodded their heads, and then they set to whispering quickly to one another about theoretical maneuvers. "Harrison, you're doing good as well. Just try to focus more on their expressions than their body language. Barnes has a habit of accidentally giving away when she's about to pass the Quaffle or psych someone out with a certain glint in her eye."

"You got it," Harrison said.

Gillian nodded, and then looked over her shoulder towards the other team. "Alright, it looks like we're going to resume soon. Just remember to play your hardest, and remember the advice that I gave the lot of you."

They all nodded and, just as Gillian had presumed, Madam Hooch jogged over to them. "Are you ready?" She asked Gillian.

"Yeah," Gillian responded, and everyone on the Slytherin team mounted their brooms.

When the game resumed, Regulus went back to searching the outskirts. He watched as his other teammates took the advice of their captain, and soon, the score was 110-110.

Regulus let out a sigh of frustration as twenty more minutes passed, and still, the Snitch hadn't been witnessed once by either of the Seekers. He wondered briefly if it had flown away from the pitch and wasn't even at Hogwarts anymore.

The occupants of the stands were all becoming quite tired, as well. Regulus was just watching as Ellie Atkinson tried to score a goal which was deflected by Harrison Willis, when he noticed a small glint. It wasn't more than a second, and he almost missed it. However, when he did a double take, there it was. The Snitch was hovering above and to the left of the Slytherin goal posts, and Regulus didn't even hesitate.

He barreled down the pitch, headed straight for the Snitch. "Regulus Black has seen the Snitch!" Pandora Fernsby shouted, and every single pair of eyes turned on him. "Deacon Ackland is close behind! Ackland and Black are neck-and-neck... reaching for the Snitch... within reach..."

Regulus was biting his lip in concentration. He could feel Deacon right next to him, and he could see his arm also reaching for the Snitch in his peripheral vision. Regulus could practically feel his fingers wrapping around the Snitch... could feel everyones eyes on him... and then, all of a sudden, the Snitch was gone. It had zipped away just in time, and been replaced with a Bludger.

The Bludger hit Regulus directly in the wrist, and he grit his teeth so hard that he was afraid they might fall out, trying to hold in the cries of pain that were threatening to escape his lips. The Bludger had flown directly over Deacon's arm, so he was left completely unscathed.

"Regulus Black has been hit with a Bludger!" Pandora shouted, and an audible gasp arose from the crowd.

"TIMEOUT!" Gillian shouted, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

Regulus flew down to the ground, clenching his jaw so hard that it was trembling, and there was an uncomfortable and painful pressure in his head. Gillian Fairman landed, threw her broom to the ground, and rushed over to Regulus.

"Regulus, are you alright?!" She asked, grabbing his wrist and ignoring the cry of pain that he couldn't hold in.

Madam Hooch rushed over to them, and Madam Pomfrey was on her way down from the stands. The rest of the Slytherin team touched down and walked towards the group, as well. The Gryffindor team stood a few yards away, all looking at the cluster that was surrounding Regulus Black. James Potter and Deacon Ackland were watching with worry clear on their faces, and Sirius Black was trying to suppress the concern.

Wyatt stepped up next to Gillian and examined his wrist. "I told you to be careful," he murmured.

"Oh, yeah, because I _purposefully_ got my wrist broken by a Bludger," Regulus snapped, his voice strained with pain.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow at Regulus as Madam Pomfrey pushed through the crowd. She gingerly took Regulus's wrist from Gillian's hand and examined it carefully. Gillian turned around sent a fiery glare towards Mulciber. "Why did you hit the ruddy Bludger at him?!" She demanded, taking a few quick steps forward.

"I was trying to hit the other Seeker," answered Mulciber, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, you don't hit the Bludger towards the other Seeker when Regulus is _right there_!" She hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Alright, whatever, I won't do it again," he grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, you're right, you won't. Because if you do that again, you'll be off of this time faster than you can even say the word Bludger," she threatened, and she quickly turned around just in time to see Madam Pomfrey healing Regulus's wrist.

Regulus took a deep breath as the pain faded and was replaced by a dull ache. "Does it still hurt?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Regulus nodded his head. "Just a bit."

"Is it still a sharp pain, or is it an ache?"

"Ache."

She nodded her head and pointed her wand at his wrist again. "Alright, this is going to feel very uncomfortable, but it will only last a few seconds, ok?"

"Ok," Regulus said, watching her cautiously.

She cast a silent spell, and it felt as though Regulus's very bones, muscles, and blood were being frozen. Though, she quickly cast a second spell which seemed to thaw everything out and make them warm once again. He let out a sigh of relaxation as the warmth seeped through his wrist, up his arm, and into his chest.

"Better?" She asked, dropping his wrist.

He moved it around in circles - while there was still an ache, it was barely even noticeable. He nodded his head. "Better."

She nodded her head in satisfaction and then walked off with Madam Hooch. The two had a hushed conversation while Gillian hastened to be sure that Regulus was alright, and then Madam Hooch moved to continue the game.

Regulus had to grip his broom differently so as not to increase the tension and aching in his wrist, but it didn't make much of a difference in his actual flying skills themselves. The game lasted thirty more long, tiring, and stressful minutes until Regulus was put back into action.

"Deacon Ackland has spotted the Snitch!" Pandora Fernsby shouted, and Regulus glanced to his left.

Sure enough, Deacon was darting downwards. Without even looking, Regulus followed suit. When he had pulled into a nearly perpendicular dive, he noticed the Snitch flying mere inches above the ground. He could feel nerves rising up in him as he stretched out his arm; there was _no way_ that he would be able to grabbed the Snitch and pull out of the dive in time! Deacon was thinking the same thing.

As though the Snitch had read their minds, it raised up into the air by several feet. Regulus let out a breath of relief, but quickly turned back his full concentration. They were shooting towards it, practically parallel with one another, both with their arms stretched to their fullest extents. Regulus narrowed his eyes, scraping together every bit of concentration that he had and throwing it all into catching the Snitch. He could feel the wind ruffling his hair, pushing it back behind himself.

He was just waiting to feel the cold metal of the Snitch in his hand, and luckily, it came. He felt his fingers closing 'round the ball, and the entire pitch seemed to freeze for but a second. Suddenly, though, the whole of Slytherin house broke out into applause.

"REGULUS BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Pandora Fernsby shouted. "SLYTHERIN WINS!"

Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland both touched down onto the ground, seeing as how they were both so close to it, and Deacon gave the other boy a genuine smile. "Good job, Regulus," he said.

"Thanks. You too." Regulus responded.

"Thanks!" Deacon said, and he glanced to where the entire Slytherin Quidditch team was descending towards the boys. "Have a good day," and he turned around and walked off to where his own team was touching down.

Gillian rushed over to Regulus and dropped her broom onto the ground, pulling Regulus into a tight embrace. "YOU DID IT!" She shouted, practically trembling with excitement.

"GOOD JOB, REGULUS!" Harrison Willis announced, giving Regulus a firm pat on the back once Gillian had released him.

"That was really good, Regulus. Great job," Wyatt Pearce said, giving the boy a bright grin.

Regulus felt elated. He was still clutching the Snitch in his hand, an irreplaceable grin plastered onto his face. The Slytherin house descended onto the pitch from the stands, and Barty was one of the first ones over to them.

"YOU DID SO GOOD, REG!" He shouted, his face glowing with excitement.

"THANKS!" Regulus exclaimed.

However, when he saw Evan Rosier and Severus Snape walking onto the pitch side by side, sneers on their pale faces, his excitement seemed to dim. With the adrenaline of the match gone, Evan Rosier's words from the dorm that very day appeared in the forefront of his thoughts.

He couldn't help the sense of dread that crept up his spine when the words ran through his mind.

_Watch your back, Black. You never know when something will happen._

What Evan Rosier was planning on doing, Regulus had no idea. But, based off of the hexes that the boy had used on him before, and the ones that he had seen being used on other people by Evan and Severus, Regulus couldn't help but feel the smallest bit afraid.


	56. The Post-Match Party

That night, the Slytherins threw a post-match party in their common room.

Regulus was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, analyzing the chaos that was taking place around him. Barty was sitting at his side, looking into the corner where Phoebe Scott was chatting with a second year girl by the name of Ariella Graham. Regulus looked at his friend, and he noted the indescribable look that was etched upon his face.

It looked like a mixture of adoration, curiosity, disgust, and longing. Regulus brushed it off and looked to his other side where Gillian was sitting, deep into a conversation with Valeria Moss.

"Hey, Regulus," Harrison Willis said, and he squeezed himself onto the couch between Gillian and Regulus.

Gillian broke away from her conversation with Valeria and looked to Harrison with a raised brow. "Sitting on my lap, are we, Willis?" She asked, giving him a mocking smirk.

Harrison waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not even on your lap, Fairman. Unless you want me to be? I wouldn't oblige," he gave her a smirk back, and she punched his shoulder before turning back to Valeria.

Harrison laughed, and then turned to Regulus. "So, how are you feeling?"

Regulus gave him an odd look. "Feeling? What do you mean?" Regulus asked.

"After the match today! You did really good, but I'm assuming that you're probably as exhausted as I am." Harrison explained.

As if on cue, Regulus gave a very deep and long yawn. He stretched his arms up into the air, and Harrison leaned away from him a bit to give him space to do so. "Yeah, I am pretty tired," Regulus admitted.

"Yeah, you certainly look it," Harrison said, looking specifically at the dark rings around Regulus's eyes.

"I've been awake since three o'clock, too." Regulus continued.

"Three? Voluntarily?" Regulus nodded. "Merlin, why?"

"Just couldn't sleep, I s'pose." Regulus shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I'm going to head off to bed," he stood up from the couch and turned around so that he was facing the younger boy. "I'll see you at the next practice. And, hey, again, you did a really great job today."

"Thank you," Regulus said, giving the Quidditch team Keeper a smile.

Harrison nodded and walked off towards the boys's dormitory stairs, disappearing into the thick crowd of students. "What was he on about?" Asked Barty, only realizing that the older boy had been there when he stood up to leave.

"Just wanted to say I did a good job at the match today, and to ask how I was feeling." Regulus explained.

Barty nodded his head slowly, and Regulus noticed that his eyes seemed to dart back towards the corner. Regulus looked between the girl and Barty with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. "What's that about?" He asked, pointing between the two of them.

"What's what about?" Barty asked, his face contorting with confusion.

"Thought you couldn't see yourself liking someone who didn't want to work for the Dark Lord," Regulus teased.

Barty rolled his eyes, though Regulus noticed a faint blush creeping up onto his cheeks in the dim lighting of the room. "Shut up. I don't like her," Barty said.

"Alright, Barty, whatever you say," Regulus said, smiling disbelievingly at the boy.

"Hey, guys," Gillian said, bidding Valeria Moss adieu and turning to her two friends, "are you enjoying yourselves?" She took a sip of the drink that she was holding in her right hand.

The two third year boys shrugged. "It's alright," replied Barty.

"Bored?" Gillian asked. Both boys nodded. "Parties really aren't your guys's thing, are they?"

"I like parties, but you lot do seem to throw parties on the days where I'm most tired," Regulus said, expressing his observation of the poor timing of Slytherin parties.

"Yeah, we don't have very good timing, do we?" Gillian asked, a laughter about her voice.

Regulus nodded his head, and he looked to his left. Barty was back to his observation of Phoebe Scott, and Gillian quickly found herself entrapped into a conversation with Wyatt Pearce and Maddox Jugson about some more Chaser techniques. Regulus let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the orange flames which were dancing just behind the grate of the fireplace.

He stretched his arms and legs out in front of himself, enjoying the feeling of the tension leaving his sore muscles. Regulus didn't know if he wanted to talk to someone, to go to sleep, or to just be by himself. Either way, he figured that at least one of those could be executed rather easily.

He stood from the couch, and Gillian and Barty both turned their attention to him. "Where are you going?" Barty asked, fixing him with a questioning gaze.

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno." He responded truthfully.

"Do you want us to come?" Gillian inquired, taking another sip of her drink.

Regulus shook his head. "No, it's fine. I won't be long." He flashed his friends a smile, and then disappeared into the sea of Slytherins, wading his way towards the common room door.

It took much longer than it normally would have to reach the door, seeing as how he had to dodge and maneuver his way through the bodies of Slytherin house. However, when he finally made it into the empty corridor beyond, he walked straight towards the entrance hall. Where he was going, he wasn't really sure. Regulus just knew that he wanted to get away from the common room and be by himself.

Up in Gryffindor tower, Benji was pacing very short circles in front of his bed, running his fingers through his blond hair nervously. Deacon and Francesco were sitting on their respective beds, watching their friend as panic rose up in him.

"What if she doesn't like me? What if she decides I'm annoying? What if she only said yes out of pity? What if-" Benji was frantically asking every question that popped into his anxiety-ridden mind.

"Benji!" Shouted Francesco, breaking him out of the headspace that Benji had found himself entrapped in. Benji looked to Fran, who was giving him a reassuring smile. "She'll love you, mate, calm down. She said yes to going on a date with you for a reason, and I think it's safe to assume that it wasn't pity."

Benji nodded his head slowly, and then he turned to Deacon. "What do you think?" He asked, his voice strained with stress.

Deacon gave his best mate a smile. "Like Fran said, she'll love you. If Clementine likes her, then she's obviously a nice girl, isn't she? I don't think that a nice girl would agree to go on a date with someone out of pity," Deacon pointed out.

Francesco pointed to Deacon and nodded his head. "See! Deacon's right! Now," Francesco stood up from the bed and walked over to his friend. Fran looked Benji over and reached out a hand to straighten the tie that he had on. "Just be yourself, and she'll love you," he finished with his tie and smoothed out the shoulders of Benji's shirt.

Benji took a deep breath and nodded his head slowly. "Be myself," he muttered.

Francesco planted his hands firmly on Benji's shoulders and smiled at him with reassurance. "Be yourself," Francesco confirmed.

Benji smiled shakily at the boy. Though, his smile quickly faded, and it was replaced with the expression of worry that had been etched onto his face for the past two hours. "What if we run out of things to talk about? What do I do then?" He asked.

Deacon stood up from his bed and walked over to the two boys, standing next to Francesco and giving Benji a smile. "Just ask her about her interests. If you're interested in the same things, then you talk about those. And then when you're done with the things that you have mutual interest in, then you start asking her about the other things." Deacon explained.

Francesco gave Deacon a surprised look. "Wow, Dea. For someone who's never properly dated a girl, you sure know a lot about how to get them to like you."

Deacon shrugged. "It's a gift, I s'pose."

Francesco chuckled and then looked back to his other friend, who looked much more at ease. Benji let out a breath of relief, and he looked between his two friends with gratefulness in his eye. "What would I do without the two of you?"

Francesco shrugged at the same time that Deacon responded, "Drown."

Benji laughed, feeling the anxiety slowly seeping from his body. Once again, Benji found himself overjoyed about the fact that he had two of the best friends that anyone could ever ask for by his side.

"Alright," Benji took yet another deep breath and composed himself, "I should go. I can't be late."

"You'll do great," Deacon assured him, and Francesco reached out his hands to adjust his tie one last time.

Taking a step back, the boy looked his best mate over and a smile crept onto his face. "You look spiffing, mate. Honest."

"Thank you guys," Benji said, his voice genuine. He turned around, took one final deep breath, and headed for the door.

"Good luck!" Called Francesco.

"You'll have to tell us everything when you get back!" Deacon shouted.

Benji left the room, and Deacon and Francesco stood in silence for a few brief moments. With Benji gone, there was an air of awkwardness left behind. Francesco shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and Deacon cleared his throat before walking back to his bed and sitting down.

Francesco moved to his own bed, and he sat down on the edge that was nearest to Deacon. He watched as the other boy laid on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and resuming the Ancient Runes homework that he had never finished on Halloween. He analyzed Deacon with interested eyes; the way chewed on the inside of his lip when he was concentrating especially hard, the way his brown eyes roved the page before him, the way he would absently chew on the end of his quill when he was reading a question, the way the tendons in his hands tensed and moved beneath his skin when he would write.

Francesco felt that same, odd sensation that he had felt on the way back from the Quidditch pitch on Halloween. His heart rate was increasing, his palms were becoming clammy, and he just couldn't seem to tear his gaze off of the boy across from him. He traced the features of the boy's face, noting all of the ways that they had changed since the two of them had first met at the Gryffindor table two years prior.

Deacon looked up from his homework, feeling Francesco's eyes on him. When the two of them met eyes, Francesco was so deep in thought that he didn't even seem to notice. Deacon felt his breath catch in his throat and butterflies erupting in his stomach at the mere sight of the other boy, and he cursed himself in his mind.

_Stop it! I can't like him! He's a boy, and I'm a boy, and we're best friends! I can't like him this much!_

_But I do. Oh, I really, really like him._

"Fran?" Deacon asked, noticing for the first time the absent look which clouded his eyes.

Francesco was broken out of his headspace, and his eyes darted to several different points on the other boy's face to help himself focus more. "Huh?" He asked, though his voice came out odd and strangled-sounding.

Deacon cocked his head and slowly lowered his quill to the parchment in front of him. "Are you alright?" He asked, putting his feelings for the boy aside just long enough that he would be able to make sure that his friend was ok.

"Yeah, fine. Totally, totally fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Francesco said hastily, giving the boy a smile which he hoped would be convincing.

Deacon noted that the smile wasn't a genuine one. He knew what Francesco's smile looked like, and that wasn't it. His real smile was unintentionally crooked, and it would bring a certain glow to his face; a glow that was currently absent. "Are you sure?" Deacon asked.

"Oh, yeah, totally ok. Just peachy. Fantastic. Never been better," Francesco nodded his head quickly.

Deacon gave his friend an odd look, and he was trying to mask the pang in his chest. Ever since the two boys had first met, they had always told each other everything. Well, nearly everything. However, third year especially, the two of them had seemingly been drifting apart. They didn't talk to one another about things anymore. They had resorted to making nothing but small talk, all of the time. Deacon didn't know why this change had occurred, but he couldn't help but think that it was his fault. Had he done something wrong? Had Fran somehow discovered Deacon's crush, and felt weird about it? Did Fran just not like Deacon anymore? Was Fran going to start ignoring Deacon, like almost every single other person in Deacon's life had?

Deacon looked away from his friend quickly, fighting the urge to cry; he really did cry a lot, he realized.

Francesco noticed the sad look that had suddenly clouded the features of his friend, and he felt a similar pain in his chest. He, too, had noticed the change in the two boys's relationship. And, similarly to Deacon, Francesco blamed himself. He couldn't seem to explain or shake the feelings that he had been having towards the boy for the past few months. He had never felt this way towards anyone before. Not towards Benji, or Clementine, or Lennox, or Jasmine. No one. Only Deacon. What did they mean? Where had they come from? How could he get rid of them?

Though, he pushed these feelings aside. He shoved them deep into his mind, and focused solely on making his friend happier. For, along with the new feelings, he had also noticed a shift in Deacon's mood. He was sad. Deacon was very, very sad.

Francesco stood, crossed the gap between the boys's beds, and sat cross-legged at the end of Deacon's. Deacon stayed laying on his stomach, upper body propped up on his elbows, and eyes trained carefully on his Rune translations.

"Dea?" Francesco asked.

The mere sound of Francesco's voice sent a shiver down Deacon's spine, and he looked up to meet Fran's eyes before he could even think twice. The two boys stared at one another, Deacon noting the indescribable look in Fran's eyes, and Fran noticing the sad look in Deacon's. They were silent, both absently holding their breaths.

"Are _you_ alright?" Francesco finally asked.

Deacon furrowed his brow, and Francesco noted the lines that had appeared in the space between the boy's brown eyebrows. "What?" Deacon asked.

"Are you alright? You've been asking me, but I haven't asked you. And I know that you're different. Like I said on the way back from the pitch, you've been acting more sad lately, and I've noticed. So, I'll ask again. Are you alright?" Francesco explained.

Deacon was silent a moment, carefully thinking over his possible responses. Finally, he let out a sigh and used his hands to push himself into a sitting position. He sat cross-legged and pulled absently at the maroon duvet underneath him. "I guess. I just - I don't really know how to explain it, I s'pose." Deacon mumbled.

Francesco looked at the smaller boy with sympathy and concern. "Can you try?" He asked gently.

Deacon took a moment to collect his thoughts, and he began fiddling nervously with his fingers. "It's just... I don't know, I guess..." he sighed and moved his gaze from his Ancient Runes homework to Francesco. The mere sight of the boy's reassuring smile was enough to give Deacon the courage to say anything. "I feel like this year, me, you, and Benji have just been drifting apart a lot," Deacon began, choosing his words very carefully as he went along. "We don't really talk anymore, none of us. Well, I s'pose you two do, but not with me. And I don't know if it's my fault - if I did something wrong. If I did, I'm really sorry, and-"

Francesco cut Deacon off. "Deacon, you didn't do anything wrong. If we're drifting apart, I can promise you that it is not your fault," he said firmly.

Deacon averted his eyes from Francesco's, afraid that the boy would notice the tears which were slowly welling up in them. Francesco, however, ignored the fluttering of his heart and the nervous twisting of his stomach to reach out a hand and gently place his fingers beneath the boy's chin, shifting his face to look at him.

Deacon felt like Francesco's mere touch was going to leave a scorching trail behind, but he didn't mind.

"Deacon, it is not your fault." Francesco said, his voice firm and full of sincerity. "I know why you probably feel that way, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I've been acting so distant. I just have a lot of... things, going on. Things that I haven't even told Benji about. I just need some time to work through them, and when doing that, I'm sorry if I made it seem that I was ignoring you. I will do better, I promise. But, I need you to be patient with me. Alright?"

Deacon nodded his head, looking deeply into Francesco's eyes. The kindness and sincerity which lived in them had been enough to remind Deacon Ackland why he liked the boy in front of him so, so much. "Alright." He said, his voice just above a breath - he wasn't sure if he could make it any louder, even if he tried.

Francesco smiled at the boy, and he fought very hard to suppress the sudden urge that was clawing its way up inside of him. Without warning, he pulled Deacon into a hug, which the boy graciously returned. Francesco wrapped his arms tightly around the boy, unsure if - if he had kept staring into the chocolate brown eyes of Deacon Ackland - he would have been able to suppress the odd urge much longer.

Regulus Black didn't know where in the castle he was. He remembered being in this particular corridor once before - it was the night before Christmas break of first year. Needless to say, he didn't have very fond memories of this corridor. For, he had run into Sirius that night, and the two of them had gotten into an argument about their parents.

Though, Regulus weighed the chances that he would run into Sirius again, and he decided that it was very unlikely. So, he wandered the flagstone corridor with interested eyes, taking in the patterned floor and the rivets of the otherwise smooth stone walls.

Though, when he heard a faint noise - almost as though something were sliding back into place - and the echoes of footsteps, Regulus froze. Realistically, he couldn't get in trouble. It wasn't yet past curfew, so even if it was Filch, there would be nothing that he could do. The worst that could happen, in his opinion, was being told off for being so far away from the Slytherin common room this close to when curfew was.

When the creators of the footsteps rounded the corner, Regulus's nervousness turned to vexation, and the same happened to one of the two boys. Sirius and Regulus Black glared at one another in irritation, while James Potter stood beside Sirius with a quizzical look about his face.

"What are you doing down here?" Sirius finally snapped, breaking the tense silence that had found a home between the two brothers.

"I can walk wherever I want, you dimwit." Regulus shot back, his voice just as angry.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, and Regulus did the same. It was only when James Potter shifted his weight uncomfortably and the clinking of bottles ensued that Regulus noticed that both of the Gryffindor boys were holding rather large sacks. He eyed them curiously, careful not to lose the stone-cold expression on his face.

"Well?" Sirius asked, and Regulus diverted his eyes back to those of his older brother.

"What?" Regulus asked, genuinely confused about what his brother had meant by the question.

Sirius let out a sigh of irritation. "Are you going to leave?!" He demanded.

Regulus could feel his defenses building themselves back up, and he raised his chin regally. "I don't have to do anything that you want me to." He replied coolly.

Sirius smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, wow, look at that! Ickle Reggie thinks he's all tough now!"

"Don't call me that!" Regulus snapped through clenched teeth.

In truth, Regulus had never particularly minded the nickname; not when it came from his big brother. However, Regulus truly couldn't stand the name coming from the lips of someone who so obviously hated him. Someone like the new Sirius Black.

"Awe, little baby Reggie doesn't like his nickname?" Sirius cooed, a teasing glimmer about his eyes.

"Shut the hell up, Sirius!" Regulus shouted.

"Reg-gie, Reg-gie, Reg-gie," Sirius chanted, finding amusement in the anger that was radiating off of his younger brother.

"Sirius," James said lowly, his eyes darting between the two brothers.

"Reg-gie, Reg-gie, Reg-gie."

"Sirius, stop," said James.

"Reg-gie, Reg-gie, Reg-gie."

Regulus, without thinking, drew his wand and pointed it squarely at Sirius's chest. Sirius was ready. He drew his wand equally as fast, and so there the brothers stood; wands raised, eyes narrowed, and rage coursing through their veins.

James looked cautiously between the two. "Alright, guys," he said, raising both of his hands and directing them at the two brothers in turn, "no need to get violent."

"Back the hell off, Potter," Regulus spat.

"DON'T TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT!" Sirius roared, his cheeks turning a light shade of rose from the furious state that he was ever-so-slowly sinking into.

"I CAN TALK TO HIM HOWEVER I WANT!" Regulus shouted back.

" _STIOPPU_ -"

" _EXPELLIARMUS_!" James shouted, drawing his own wand and using it to disarm Sirius before he could fully cast the hex.

James caught Sirius's wand with an outstretched palm and quickly pocketed it, along with his own. "C'mon, you ruddy dog. Remus and Peter are waiting," he said, and he started down the dark corridor without a word.

Regulus lowered his wand, but none of the intimidation left his face. Sirius sent one last glare at his little brother, and then hastily followed behind James. Regulus turned around and watched the two boys leave, feeling his anger subsiding with every step away that they took.

With a sigh, Regulus closed his eyes and pressed his back firmly against the cold stone to his left. He rested the top of his head against the wall, feeling the stretch in his neck.

It truly seemed like every single encounter that Regulus Black had had with his brother in the past three years had ended the same; Regulus alone, fighting the tears of despair and anger that were threatening to fall.


	57. Oh.

The weeks of November had passed in a chilly and non-eventful blur.

Nothing was happening around the castle, aside from the excitement of the fast-approaching holiday. Almost every single minute of the day, students could be seen outside, playing in the snow or else just relishing in the cold, winter's air. The Great Hall was always a buzz of enthusiastic energy, all talking about going home, or else experiencing Christmas at Hogwarts.

Regulus had spent almost all of November pouring himself into his studies, ignoring Evan Rosier and Severus Snape, or else practicing for Quidditch. He had actually been doing quite well in all of his classes, especially in Care of Magical Creatures.

"Your essay on bowtruckles was excellent!" Professor Kettleburn had told Regulus one day after their Tuesday morning class. "I'll tell you, Regulus, I think that you would make an excellent magizoologist!"

Just like that, Regulus had a bit of an idea about what career he would be interested in going into after Hogwarts.

Aside from that, however, not much had changed. Evan Rosier hadn't cornered, threatened, or hexed Regulus since the Quidditch match. In fact, as far as Regulus was concerned, Evan Rosier had seemingly forgotten all about the revenge that he had promised the boy.

Francesco Anderson had been better about spending time with Deacon; he had also become better at suppressing the peculiar feelings that always surrounded any interaction between the two boys. Things were, as far as Deacon and Benji knew, going completely back to normal.

Deacon, on the other hand, felt quite nervous whenever he was around his friend. Yes, of course he was glad that they were spending time together again, but with the lack of time spent between the two boys for practically the entire term, it had become easy for Deacon to forget just how much he liked the boy. With them slowly returning back to normal, Deacon's feelings for Francesco returned, and they were so, so much worse. It was as though them speaking again had opened a flood gate, and the water behind it had been growing ever-so-steadily for so long that by the time it was released, it was near unmanageable.

Benji was having the time of his life. He and Gwen had gone on two more dates following the one the day of the Quidditch match, and things were going excellently between the two. They got along incredibly well, had many of the same interests, and they had similar senses of humor. In Benji's eyes, Gwendolyn Everett was the perfect girl.

It was Saturday, 7 December.

The school was a flurry of excitement, for that day would mark the second Quidditch match of the season. The match itself was being played between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, so Deacon and Regulus both were able to sit back and relax.

Gillian, Barty, and Regulus made their way out to the pitch a mere five minutes before it started, which was very nice for all three of them; the first match, they had all arrived nearly two hours before. All three of the friends were bundled up tightly in layers upon layers of clothing, and even then, Regulus and Barty were still shivering.

Gillian looked at her two shivering friends from the corner of the eye, and she chuckled lowly. "Merlin, what are you two? Popsicles?"

"It's cold!" Regulus said, tightening the crossing of his arms over his chest and trying to ignore the cold which was nipping at the exposed skin of his face.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not that cold. You're both wearing about ten coats each!" She pointed out, looking to the walking bundles of warm clothing beside her.

"Ok, well maybe we have that thing that the Defense Professor has!" Barty said.

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, we probably do!"

Gillian gave them an odd look. "What are you two on about?"

"Professor Wilson! He said at the beginning of the year that he has this thing! It's called... it was called..." Regulus explained, pausing to recall the name of condition.

"Anemia!" Barty supplied.

"Yeah! Anemia!"

Gillian gave them both a puzzled look, and then burst into laughter. "What are you two on about? Professor Wilson doesn't have anemia! Where on earth did you hear that from?"

They looked at one another in confusion. "He told us! At the beginning of the year!" Regulus said.

"How are you so sure he doesn't have it?" Barty inquired.

"Because we have potions to cure anemia! It's a rather simple brew, really. Madam Pomfrey could probably have it over and done with in two hours' time. I'm telling you, the Defense Professor does not have anemia."

"Why would he lie about it?" Regulus asked.

Gillian shrugged. "Perhaps you misheard. Now, c'mon. Harrison and Valeria are saving the three of us seats."

Regulus and Barty buried the new revelation deep into their minds and picked up their walking speed, hoping that the new physical exertion would help produce more body heat. However, when they reached the stands and found themselves both still ice cold, they huddled together.

"Who are we rooting for?" Regulus asked Gillian, who was sitting on the other side of Barty.

"Hufflepuff. If they win, it'll put them into second place for the House Cup, and it'll bump Ravenclaw down to third instead of replacing us in first," she explained.

Regulus nodded his head slowly, and then looked with eager eyes at the match before him.

The match was rather short compared to the one played between Gryffindor and Slytherin. While that one had lasted near to two hours, this one lasted less than thirty minutes. The Hufflepuff Seeker caught the Snitch with expertise, and the entirety of Slytherin and Hufflepuff house burst into applause. The Gryffindor's had been rooting for Ravenclaw, because now that Ravenclaw had been bumped down to third with Hufflepuff's win, Gryffindor was in fourth place for the House Cup.

The Hufflepuffs were hosting a post-match party that they invited all of the houses to, but Regulus and Barty opted out. The two of them had an Ancient Runes translation, Care of Magical Creatures essay, and a list of Defense Against the Dark Arts questions that they needed to finish by Monday.

So, they stayed up together in the common room for most of the night. They both called their respective houses elves to bring them snacks and drinks (Kreacher had become quite accustomed to Regulus calling him and asking him to make him some coffee, and he gave Barty a mug of steaming hot cocoa), and they eventually fell asleep on the floor in front of the coffee table.

Deacon Ackland and Francesco Anderson were also doing their homework in the common room, though in silence. Deacon was working on Care of Magical Creatures, while Fran was working on Muggle Studies. Deacon was chewing on the end of his quill, his brow furrowed in concentration. He kept stealing glances at Fran, who was sitting across the table from him.

This particular time, he noticed that Francesco's brows were creased with confusion, and his lips were silently forming the words on the page before him. Deacon's eyes roved the other boy's face, and he felt a fluttering in his heart.

Deacon cleared his throat and lowered his quill. Fran broke his gaze away from his assignment and turned it to Deacon. "Need any help?" Deacon asked, pointing to the Muggle Studies homework before him.

"Huh?" Fran asked, half of his concentration focused on the features of the boy in front of him, and the other half focused on ignoring the twisting and fluttering in his stomach.

"Your homework? Do you need any help?" Deacon pressed.

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry." Francesco shook his head, as though it would help him focus better, and then looked at the question that he was stuck on. "What powers a muggle stove?"

"Electricity or gas," Deacon supplied.

Francesco scribbled that down. "How does electricity work?"

"There are a bunch of conductors that are put together, and when they're put together they cause a sort of flow of electrical currents."

Francesco wrote it down, though his brow was still furrowed in confusion. "That sounds weird," he commented.

Deacon shrugged. "It is if you think about it too much. It's the same as magic. If you think about how it's produced too much, then it doesn't really make any sense."

Francesco nodded his head slowly, and then moved onto the last question. "Why would it be bad if the electricity were to go out in a muggle hospital?"

"Because everything in hospitals works on electricity. The machines that monitor patients, the things that keep important medicines cold, some of the machines that are keeping patients alive. A hospital can't really function without electricity, honestly."

Francesco finished his homework and set his quill down, waiting for the ink to dry before slipping the paper back into his book bag. "Thanks, Dea. You're a life saver,"

Deacon felt a flush creeping up onto his cheeks, and he quickly turned back to his Care of Magical Creatures homework. "It's nothing," he muttered.

Francesco looked at the boy, studying him. As far as he was concerned, Deacon was more interesting than any of the homework that he still had left. Deacon felt Francesco's eyes on him, but he kept his gaze trained carefully on his essay.

Francesco got an urge. It was a strange one, and he didn't know where it had come from, but it was there. Francesco studied the way that the muscles in Deacon's neck would move with every movement of his head, and the way that his lips would form silent words as he read. Francesco swallowed the lump that was clawing its way up his throat, and he took a deep, shaky breath.

"Deacon," he said, his voice just above a breath. Deacon looked up from his homework, fixing Francesco with a questioning gaze.

"Yeah?" He asked.

Francesco's eyes roved over the other boy's face. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He wasn't even sure why he had said Deacon's name. But it had just come out. And even now, there were words that were trying so desperately to pour out of him. Without giving it a second thought, he began.

"I-" he started, but he was cut off.

The portrait hole opened, and in tumbled a very elated-looking Benjamin Stone. Both boys turned to look at him as he got up from where he had toppled onto the ground.

He stood, reached his hands up over his head, and gave his best mates a wide grin. "I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!" He announced.

"Really?!" Deacon asked, dropping his quill onto the table and smiling brightly at his friend.

"YEAH! I ASKED HER TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND AND SHE SAID YES! GUYS, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!" He started doing a little dance around in a circle, and his friends laughed.

Francesco glanced at Deacon, noting the way that his face lit up whenever he laughed. Though, he quickly looked away. He couldn't risk getting the urge to speak to him again. Not when he didn't even know what he had been about to say.

It was breakfast on Monday, 16 December.

Regulus was sitting at the Slytherin table, sipping at his mug of hot coffee. He had already finished his bagel, and was just waiting for Barty to finish his breakfast before the two would be headed to their Care of Magical Creatures class. His eyes were absently roving over the Gryffindor table.

However, they stopped when they reached the spot where the three Gryffindor boys sat. Standing behind Benji was a girl. Though, she wasn't just a girl. She didn't look like any of the other girls in the hall.

Her honey-blonde hair hung loosely over her shoulder, framing her face and accentuating her gorgeous features. Regulus's jaw nearly dropped, but he was able to stop himself. However, he couldn't keep his eyes from widening. She might have just been the prettiest girl that Regulus had ever seen.

It was also quite different from the way that he admired Gillian's beauty. He looked at how pretty Gillian was from a solely platonic perspective. But with this girl - this girl who's smile appeared to be lighting up the entire room - he wasn't sure if it was entirely platonic anymore. He felt an odd sort of fluttering sensation in his stomach, and a pick-up in his heart rate.

"Regulus? You alright?" Barty asked, and Gillian looked up from where she was reading her Advanced Potions textbook.

Gillian's brows knit together in confusion, and she looked over her shoulder to follow Regulus's gaze. When her eyes landed upon the girl who was standing behind Benjamin Stone, laughing along with he and his friends, a small smirk crossed her lips. She turned back and faced Regulus, an eyebrow raised.

"I think Regulus has a little crush," she said.

This snapped Regulus quickly out of the almost trance-like state that he had been pulled into, and his eyes darted between his two friends. "Hm?" He asked.

Barty also looked, and when his eyes landed on the girl's robes, he wrinkled his nose in distaste. "A Hufflepuff, Reg? Really?" He asked.

"What?" Regulus asked, still not fully tuned into the conversation.

"Awe, look at little Regulus, having his first crush," Gillian teased.

"I don't have a crush on anyone!" Regulus said defensively.

"Mhm," Gillian said, turning back to her textbook with a smirk.

"Sure you don't," Barty said disbelievingly, and he took a sip of his pumpkin juice.

When Regulus looked back to the Gryffindor table, the girl was gone, and so was Benjamin Stone. Regulus shook the memory of her off, trying to bring his focus back to his two friends. However, he couldn't seem to forget about her. Regulus didn't know why, but he just felt a certain sort of twisting in his stomach whenever he recalled the image of the girl that he had seen.

When an owl came swooping down from the windows and onto the table before Francesco Anderson, he furrowed his brow in confusion. Deacon looked up from where he was sitting across the table from the boy and watched as Fran untied the letter. The owl took a slice of toast in its beak before flying off and disappearing out of the windows.

"What's that?" He asked.

Francesco shrugged and split open the envelope, withdrawing the letter from within. Deacon studied the boy's facial expressions as he read the parchment. When he was finished, he set the letter down on the table with an air of disappointment.

"What was it?" Deacon asked.

"I have to stay here for the holiday," Francesco replied.

"Oh. Why?"

"My parents want to go to Italy again, but they want to leave on the 18th, when we're still in school." He responded.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Deacon said - he knew how much Francesco enjoyed being with his cousins in Italy. "I'm staying for the holiday, too." Deacon supplied.

Francesco looked at the boy and gave him a forced smile. "Well, at least I'll have you, then, won't I?"

It was Thursday, 19 December.

Everyone who was going home for the holidays would be leaving the following day. Needless to say, everyone was as excited as can be. Regulus was, as he was every year, less than excited. He had debated on whether or not to send Artemis with a letter to his parents saying that he would be staying at the school, but he decided against it.

Regulus and Barty were sitting on the couch in the common room, making small talk about what they were planning on doing over the holiday. Barty opened up about how excited he was to see his mum, and Regulus explained how excited he was to just be home (this wasn't necessarily true, but he thought it might be a little sad if he were to admit that he had nothing to look forward to).

Barty and Regulus had talked about possibly hanging out over the break, but they couldn't plan it that well without knowing if either of them would be busy. So, they had told one another that they would write about it and try to organize a time where Carson and Gillian would be able to hang out as well.

Barty fell asleep on the couch at half past eleven at night, but Regulus wasn't tired; he was dreading returning home so much that he couldn't even think of sleep. He was scared that his parents would use the Cruciatus on him again. Why, he didn't know. But they had more than proven that they were willing to use the curse on their sons for the smallest reasons possible.

He left. As he did every time he left the common room late at night, he had no particular destination in mind. He just wanted to get somewhere where he could be alone. However, in his mind, this was rather unlikely. Both times that he had snuck out and wandered the castle previously that year, he had run into someone. He just hoped that this time would be the odd one out.

Benjamin Stone was laying on his bed, hands rested one on top of the other on his stomach, a dopey grin on his face. Francesco was sitting at his desk, drafting a letter to one of his cousins in Italy. Deacon was sitting on his bed, reading a muggle book that he had brought from home at the beginning of the year and hadn't gotten around to reading yet. Benji let out a contented sigh, and both of his friends turned their attention to him.

"Guys... she's just so... so... _wow_ ," Benji said.

Fran chuckled and shook his head turning back to his letter. "If I didn't know any better, Benji, I'd think she used Amortentia on you," he commented.

"Amortentia?" Deacon asked.

"It's a really powerful love potion. I think we'll learn about and brew it our sixth year." Francesco supplied.

Deacon nodded his head in understanding, and then he turned back to his friend. "She's so pretty," Benji continued, "and she's so smart, and she's so nice, and she's so... she's just so... Merlin, guys, she's just amazing!" He flipped over so that he was laying on his stomach, upper body propped up on his elbows, jaw rested in his hands. "Guys, she's perfect! I swear, she's just the... _wow_."

"We've heard," Francesco said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, you say that like you weren't the same with Lennox last year," Benji said, looking at Francesco with a raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't _this_ bad," Francesco muttered.

"Sure you weren't," Benji said, and the grin quickly returned to his face. "I just... I don't know how to describe it, guys. She's just so... and I'm just so... and we're just so..." he let out another sigh of contentment. "It's like... every time she opens her mouth to speak, everything else just goes silent. And when she looks at me, there's like... it's like a... a twisting, or a fluttering, or both, in my stomach. And my heart gets all fluttery, too, and it starts beating all fast-like. And whenever I think about her, I just feel so... so... so happy, and there's like... it's like butterflies." He sighed again.

Deacon's smile had slowly faded throughout the entirety of Benji's description, and by the end of it, he was staring very, very hard at his book. That was exactly how he felt about Francesco. And he knew, deep down, that Francesco could never, ever feel the same way about him. He would never get that twisting feeling in his stomach when Deacon talked to him, or the butterflies every time they locked eyes. He would never feel that way about Deacon. And it truly did break Deacon's heart. More than anything, he just didn't want to feel this way about his best mate.

He returned to his reading to distract himself from the pain in his heart and the tears that were threatening him.

Francesco was silent.

He had turned back to his letter as though to continue it, but he wasn't. He was just sitting, staring at the parchment, quill hovering and dropping small little bits of ink onto the paper. The description... the way that Benji had described feeling about Gwen, it was exactly how he felt about...

_Oh_.

And just like that, all of the feelings were placed. They were all explained. Francesco glanced across the room at the other boy, and he felt that same twisting and change in heart rate that Benji had just described. He looked at the way the boy's hair hung in curly brown strands across his forehead, and he watched as the boy returned to his book, the words forming silently on his lips. Francesco felt his breath catch in his throat, and his palms became clammy.

Francesco Anderson felt completely lost in the boy. However, it wasn't the sort of lost that made him feel alone. No, no it was the kind of lost that made Francesco feel as though he had just been found; as though he were being truly seen for the first time.

He quickly turned back to his letter, though all of the words that he had been previously thinking of were completely gone. The only thing on his mind was Deacon Ackland. He didn't think that he had ever felt this way about someone before. Not Clementine, not Lennox, not Jasmine, no one. He was suddenly made painfully aware of the lack of feelings that he had truly had for the three girls, and he felt awful; it was as though he had convinced himself so much that he was in love with them, that he actually started to believe it himself. Though, he was quite glad that he had never gone through with his plan to ask Jasmine to be his girlfriend.

His revelation deflated to one of taunting. He couldn't feel this way about Deacon Ackland! Deacon was his best mate! And Deacon was a _boy_! Francesco couldn't like other boys! No, no he must be mistaken. It was completely platonic. It _had_ to be completely platonic.

Above all, Francesco Anderson could not like Deacon Ackland.

Regulus Black was alone in a dark corridor on the seventh floor. He was walking down the hall, looking at the portraits that lined the stone walls on either side of him. Most of the portraits were asleep, aside from a knight who kept running back and forth between the paintings, shouting something about being "the defender of portraits".

Regulus was just about to turn around and head back to the Slytherin common room with the knowledge that he had successfully avoided any other students, when-

"Sirius? What the hell are you doing out here, you ruddy dog! Filch'll be here-" James Potter stopped talking as soon as Regulus turned around and the features that discerned him from his brother were illuminated in the dull torchlight. "Oh. Hullo, Regulus."

Regulus let out a vexed sigh. "What are you doing here?" He snapped.

"Looking for your brother," James replied with a shrug, "you haven't seen him, have you?"

"No," replied Regulus flatly.

"Oh. Well, if you do-"

"If I see Sirius I'm turning around and walking the other direction."

James nodded his head slowly, and his eyes roved over the portraits on the wall. "Well, thanks anyways, I s'pose..." he paused a moment, looking at the small knight who was now waking up a table full of ladies who had been having tea. "How are you?" He finally asked.

"None of your business." Regulus said.

James rolled his eyes. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice."

"Sorry I don't fancy talking to blood traitors."

"Hey!" James said.

Regulus stared at him with a stone-cold expression. The two were silent. "If you expect me to apologize, then I regret to inform you, Potter, but you'll be very disappointed." Regulus said, finally shattering the silence that had settled itself between them.

"I don't expect anything from you," James said, though his voice wasn't angry, like one might think would be the tone that would come with that statement. James paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "Regulus, I'm sorry."

"For?" Regulus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes - a defensive mechanism that he had been using since he was a child.

"I know what you meant. In September? After Sirius brought up the Cruciatus? I know that you probably think that I took your brother away from you. And for that, I want to say that I'm genuinely sorry. I don't have a brother - well, I didn't - so I don't know what it feels like to lose a relationship with a sibling. But, I can imagine that it probably isn't very pleasant. So, I'm sorry."

Regulus's expression was melting with every word that came out of James Potter's mouth. There was a silence that followed James's words; a silence in which the two simply looked at one another.

Finally, Regulus regained his composure and sniffed, raising his chin. "I don't need you to apologize to me. I don't care." Regulus snapped.

James nodded slowly and pressed his lips together, taking a few steps back from the younger Black brother. "Ok. I don't need you to forgive me or anything. Just wanted to get that off of my chest, I s'pose." Regulus didn't say anything else. "Goodnight." He was about to turn around, but he stopped mid-turn, facing the wall with an awkward stance. "And Regulus?"

Regulus didn't respond, but that didn't stop James from continuing.

"For what it's worth, I don't think Sirius hates you. Not really." He finished his turn and walked away.

Regulus turned around and walked off without a second thought. He would never admit it, but James Potter's words had brought a sort-of comfort to him.

He fell asleep in his dorm room that night with ease.

The next morning, Gillian, Barty, and Regulus stepped off of the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross, immediately being integrated into the bustling activity of the platform.

Gillian turned to her two friends and gave them a smile. "I'll see you two when we get back to Hogwarts." She said.

"See you, Gillian!" the boys chorused.

Gillian giggled and then looked up, catching the eyes of her parents. She turned back to the two. "Bye! Have a good holiday!"

"You too!" They shouted, in unison once again.

They watched as their friend disappeared into the crowd, and then they turned to one another. "Have a good holiday, Reg. I'll write you so we can find a time to hang out!" Said Barty.

"Yeah, you too, Barty." Regulus smiled at his friend.

So, it was with a certain dread about both of their demeanors that they turned around, split off, and walked through the sea of bodies to find their respective parents.


	58. Friends with a Mudblood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: child abuse

Regulus Black awoke on the morning of 21 December with a terrible headache. Where it had come from, Regulus didn't know. All he knew was that it felt like his brain had doubled in size and was pounding on his skull, trying desperately to grow the space.

He groaned and buried his face into his pillows, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to keep the darkness there. However, when the blanket of darkness brought no relief, he rolled over onto his back and slapped a palm over his eyes. He swallowed, and was rather grateful to discover that his throat wasn't sore; at least he didn't have a cold or something of that sort.

For not the first time since he had returned home the day before, he found himself wishing he had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. If he was at the school, he could just run to Madam Pomfrey's, and she could give him a potion to be rid of his headache. However, neither of his parents were the best at potions, and therefore, probably wouldn't make him one.

"Kreacher!" Regulus called, and the old house elf appeared on the end of his bed with a _crack_.

"Good morning, Master Regulus! What can Kreacher be doing for you?" Kreacher asked, flapping his ears in excitement.

Regulus sat up, keeping his palms pressed firmly against his eyes. "Can you get me some water, please?" He asked, his voice hoarse and deep from sleep.

"Yes, of course, Master Regulus! Kreacher will be getting you water!" And he disappeared.

Regulus sat on his bed, palms pressed so firmly against his eyelids that he could see small white speckles in the blanket of darkness. However, when he heard the tapping of a beak on his window, he knew that he had to get up. He removed his hands from his face and opened his eyes, squinting at the light that was pouring in through the gap between the curtains that surrounded his four poster.

When he tore open the curtains, he had to shield his eyes from the sunlight that immediately overtook his vision and made the pain in his head multiply. With a groan of uncomfort and exhaustion, Regulus stood from his bed and walked over to his window. When he slid it open, a tawny owl came swooping in, a letter in her beak.

"Hullo, Artemis," he said, giving the owl a small smile and holding out his right forearm for her to perch on, which she did happily. He took the letter from her beak and read over the front of the envelope.

_Regulus Black_   
_12 Grimmauld Place_   
_London Borough of Islington_

"Who's this from," he muttered, more to himself than anything. He tossed the envelope onto his bed and turned back to his owl, reaching out his bent index finger. Artemis nibbled on his finger, and Regulus chuckled lowly. "I'm sure you're hungry, huh?"

Artemis hooted in response, and Regulus walked over to the corner of his room. In this corner, Artemis's cage was resting on the top of his desk, and her food was laying in a small bag on the ground beside it. He held out his arm so that the owl could hop into her cage, and then gave her some food.

When he sat back down on the edge of his bed to read his letter, Kreacher appeared back on the foot. He held a glass that was filled to the brim with water in his hand, and he thrust it in the direction of Regulus.

"Here you are, Master Regulus!" He said.

Regulus took the glass with a smile and gulped half of it down in seconds. "Thank you, Kreacher," he replied, placing what was left onto his bedside table.

"Master Regulus is welcome!" Kreacher announced.

The old elf disappeared rather suddenly, and Regulus assumed that he must have been called by one of his parents. He grabbed the letter from where it was rested beside him on the bed, and he ripped it open to take out the folded parchment from within.

_Reg,_   
_Mum said we aren't doing anything for the holiday. I'm free to hang out whenever. Let me know._

_Sincerely, Barty Crouch Jr._

Regulus read the letter over again, a small smile creeping onto his lips. He wasn't sure if his family was doing anything over the holiday, but he assumed that they weren't. So, he placed the parchment - along with the envelope - onto his bedside table and started towards his door. He was relieved to realize that his headache had definitely subsided with the help of the water that he had drank, and it was now a dull ache in the forefront of his skull.

Just as he was reaching for the handle of his bedroom door, Kreacher reappeared on the bed. Kreacher turned around in confusion, looking for where Regulus had gone. When his eyes landed on the boy, he smiled a crooked, rather scary-looking smile. "What would Master Regulus be liking for breakfast?"

"I think I'm actually going to be going downstairs for breakfast today, Kreacher," Regulus said, giving the small elf a smile which was much less frightening. "Thank you, though."

Kreacher nodded his head, and he disappeared with the snap of his fingers. Regulus turned back around and opened up his bedroom door, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell that filled his nostrils as soon as he breathed in the old air of the landing beyond. When he stepped out, one of the dark floorboards creaked beneath him from age.

Regulus sent a fleeting glance at Sirius's bedroom door, as though he were expecting him to pop out and start interrogating him about where he was going. But, of course Sirius wasn't going to. Sirius wasn't even there. Sirius had stayed back at Hogwarts for the holiday.

As he descended the long and dark staircase of Number 12, he winced at every groan that escaped from the decrepit steps beneath him; it was as though he were afraid that his mother or father would punish him for simply leaving his room. When he reached the ground floor, he took the staircase down into the basement.

When he entered the kitchen, his mother was sitting at the long, dark wood dining room table. She was leaned back in the seat at the head of the table, using her hand to levitate a book in front of herself; his mother was quite talented at wandless Levitation charms. With the flick of her finger, the page turned, and Regulus could see her eyes roving over the page. Upon getting closer, he was able to read the title of the book.

_Unforgivable Curses and Their Legal Implications_

He furrowed his brow after reading the title; his mother had never cared about the "legal implications" of anything. She looked up at the sound of Regulus's shuffling footsteps, and she looked him over with an expression of distaste on her face.

"Good morning, mother," Regulus said, and he sat down at one of the many empty seats that lined the table.

"Good morning, Regulus," Walburga Black responded, and she returned to her book with an air of annoyance and dislike.

"Where's father?" Regulus asked.

"Your father is doing important business for the Dark Lord," Walburga replied with an imperial tone in her voice.

Regulus nodded his head slowly, and he thought about the letter that was resting on his bedside table upstairs. "Mother, I was wondering... would it be alright for me to hang out with one of my friends over holiday?"

Walburga eyed him suspiciously, and she slowly closed the book and lowered it to the table in front of her with the wave of her hand. "And, what might this friend's name be?"

Regulus paused a moment. "Barty Crouch Jr."

"The Head of Magical Law Enforcement's son?" She asked, a bit surprised.

Regulus nodded. "He's in Slytherin, and he wants to work for the Dark Lord one day," he said hastily.

Walburga Black raised her chin and stared at her son down the tip of her nose. "I suppose that would be alright." She said.

Regulus felt himself perk up just a bit. "Thank you, mother!"

She nodded her head at him in response, and then quickly returned to her book. Regulus took that as his cue to leave, and he did so happily (but not before grabbing an apple out of the small bowl on one of the many counters). He took the pleasant interaction that he had had with his mother as a win, and he decided that that day would probably be a rather good one.

He ate his apple on the way back up to his bedroom, and he tossed it into one of the very few rubbish bins that filled Number 12 before returning to his bedroom. When he walked into the room, it was to find another owl waiting at his windowsill. His brows creased in confusion, and he walked over to the owl.

He untied the letter that was attached to its leg, gave it an owl treat, and watched it swoop away. The owl had an odd familiarity about it - Regulus could've sworn that he had seen it before. When he sat back down on the edge of his bed and read the envelope over, he found that he recognized the handwriting. From where, he couldn't quite place.

He turned the envelope over, tore it open, and gingerly slipped out the letter from within.

_Dearest Regulus,_   
_Hello! How have you been, darling? I've been meaning to write for a while, but I couldn't quite get around to it. Nymphadora is almost two years old, and she's quite the little handful. She reminds me a lot of you and Sirius, actually. Just two little troublemakers, you were._   
_I was actually writing you to propose an offer. See, I was speaking to Ted, and we would like to have a small get together this Christmas. Not a big one, of course, just maybe you and one or two others. I was really, really hoping that you would come. I know that, with everything going on right now, there's a chance that you might not want to. In fact, I'm not even sure that you'll be getting this letter, seeing as how you haven't written back since last September._   
_However, I do hope that you come, Regulus. You could stay for a few days, and you could get to know Nymphadora. I think you would really like her. Please, please come. I miss you, Regulus. Of course, we won't tell your parents, or any of the family, really. If you're scared, I promise you, we can keep you safe while you're here._   
_If you're interested, meet me in Diagon Alley outside of Flourish & Blotts at precisely 1PM on 24 December. I do hope you come. _

_With love, Andromeda Tonks_

Regulus looked the letter over, a desire in the back of his mind. Just like the invitation that he had received from Andromeda over the summer, Regulus longed to go. He wanted to be able to go to Andromeda's for the holiday, to spend time with one of his favorite cousin's and her daughter. But he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't.

Andromeda was a blood traitor. Regulus could not be around blood traitors. He could not be around Andromeda. It went against all of his beliefs. It went against everything that his parents had engrained into his mind. He couldn't.

So, why did he want to go so badly?

Regulus thought of the pictures that he still had stashed away in the back corner of his nightstand drawer. He shifted on the bed, pulled open that very drawer, and withdrew those very pictures.

He looked at them. At the happiness that filled his face when he was just a child, sitting on the bench with his older cousin. Of the happiness that filled Sirius's face when he was sat beside Andromeda, Nymphadora on his lap. More than anything, Regulus just wanted to experience that feeling of euphoria. For, he didn't think that he had truly been that happy in years. He had been happy, yes. But never that happy. Never the level of happiness that he experienced as a child, spending time with his two favorite cousins and his older brother. 

Regulus let out a disappointed sigh and shoved the letter - along with the two pictures - into his beside table, shutting the drawer.

It was the night of Monday, 23 December.

Regulus was sitting at his desk, getting a head start on some of his holiday homework, Artemis asleep in her cage in front of him. He was halfway through his History of Magic essay when his bedroom door was suddenly flung open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud _bang_ , an explosion of dust particles, and a startled hoot from Artemis.

He spun around in his chair, and in walked Orion and Walburga Black. Walburga had a slip of parchment clutched tightly in her fist, and Regulus's blood ran cold. It couldn't be the letter from Andromeda, right? No, that letter was still in his nightstand drawer!

Right?

"Regulus," Orion Black began, his voice low and menacing, "would you like to explain this letter to us?" He gestured to the letter which Walburga was now holding up.

Regulus swallowed back the lump that was clawing its way up his throat, and he straightened his spine in his seat. "What is it?" He asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Wilfred Rosier says that his son is under the impression that you, a member of _The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_ , are friends with a mudblood." Walburga sneered, her chin raised.

Regulus furrowed his brow, feigning confusion. "What? Why would I ever want to associate myself with a mudblood?" He did his best to bring the disgust through in his voice.

"You tell us, Regulus." Orion said.

"Rosier's lying! I'm not friends with a mudblood!" Regulus said, panic rising up in him. He wasn't lying, he really wasn't _friends_ with Deacon Ackland. And he definitely wasn't wrong about Evan Rosier lying; there was no possible way that Rosier could even know that Regulus was being civil with Deacon Ackland. He had been hiding it the entire time. Evan Rosier was lying to get Regulus punished.

"Well," Orion Black said calmly, and Regulus could see him reaching for his wand, "we'll just have to be sure that it stays that way, won't we?"

In memory, the Cruciatus curse seemed much less painful. It was as though Regulus's mind had built up a wall - a wall that would save Regulus from reliving the pain of the curse to its full extent. However, no amount of mental defense could keep Regulus from experiencing the pain that he did in that very moment. Regulus could feel the cold, hardwood floors beneath him, though they weren't doing anything to ease the burning in his veins, muscles, and head. He was practically begging his father to stop, though he wasn't sure if the words were coming out of his mouth, or else inside of his mind. Just as he had over the summer, Orion would always release the curse before it could truly do any irreversible mental damage on his son - he was, after all, still the only redeemable heir - and then cast it all over again just when Regulus was starting to recover.

When Orion Black became bored of the curse, he released it with a certain finality, and Regulus knew that it was over.

Orion stowed his wand into his pocket and stared at his son in distaste. "I would suggest thinking of this next time you want to befriend a mudblood, Regulus." He snarled, and he turned around and left without another word.

Walburga Black shot a disgusted look at her son, and then wrinkled her nose at the sick that was in a pile beside him on the floor. She turned around and left the room behind her husband, slamming the door shut with a flick of her wand.

Regulus lay there, staring at the area in front of him with bleary eyes. He was focusing very, very hard on his breathing, as though to be sure that he was still alive. For, Regulus didn't think that one person could go through as much pain as he just had and live through it.

He stayed still on the floor, the only movement that of his still spasming muscles. He had dry tear-streaks running down his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, and down his jaw. His throat felt raw, and he was almost positive that, if he tried to speak, it would come out as a scratchy, inaudible mess of words.

It took Regulus near to twenty minutes to compose himself enough to be able to sit up. Even then, he was overcome by a wave of dizziness, and every single square inch of his body was sore to the point of - if he weren't trying so hard not to - he probably would've cried from the smallest movement.

Still, he forced himself to stand up from the ground, and he collapsed onto his bed with a wince and a clenched jaw. He looked at his nightstand, and he found the still half-full glass of water from earlier that very morning. Regulus centralized every bit of strength that he had, and he grabbed the cup off of his bedside table with a trembling hand.

He gulped it down, letting out a sigh of relief as the water cascaded down his throat, easing the rawness. When he placed the glass back down onto the table, it was with a much steadier hand. He laid his head down on the bed, though it was rather far away from the pillows themselves. He felt the coolness of his sheets seeping into his skin, and he closed his eyes in contentment.

When he opened them again, they landed immediately on his nightstand drawer. He thought of the letter that it contained. He thought of the reasoning behind the curse that his parents had just forced him to endure.

Regulus was having a thought process that one may not have expected to be the outcome of what had just happened to him.

His parents had used the Cruciatus curse on him because Evan Rosier had lied to them about Regulus being friends with a mudblood. Regulus's parents had used a torture curse on their own son because of the mere idea that he could be fraternizing with someone who wasn't of pure-blood descent.

Regulus was going to have the Cruciatus used on him anyways. Whether he hung out with Deacon or didn't hang out with Deacon. Whether he went to Andromeda's or didn't go to Andromeda's. His parents were going to use curses on him anyways.

So, in Regulus's mind, why get punished for something that he didn't even do? If Regulus was going to have torture curses used on him anyways, why not have it be on his terms? Have it used on him for things that he did to, for things that he wanted to do.

He used his hands to help himself sit up, and he carefully slid open his drawer. He withdrew the letter, carefully unfolded it, and found the spot that he was looking for.

_If you're interested, meet me in Diagon Alley outside of Flourish & Blotts at precisely 1PM on 24 December._

Regulus lowered the letter back into the drawer, slid it shut, stood from his bed, and began to pack.

The next morning, Regulus awoke with fear and excitement coursing through his veins. He dressed quickly, took one last look around the room to be sure that he had packed all of the essentials, and he slipped on his shoes.

Upon entering the kitchen, he found his mother sitting in the exact spot that she had been the morning after his return. Though, this time, she was reading the day's copy of the Daily Prophet rather than a book. Regulus stepped inside, stood at the opposite end of the table from her, and waited.

"What do you want, Regulus?" Walburga Black asked coolly, turning the page of the paper and scanning it with her eyes.

"Good morning, mother. I was just wondering, about the question that I asked a few days ago? About spending time with my friend Barty? Well... he's invited me to stay with his family for a few days, and I was just wondering if it would be alright if I went?" Regulus asked, trying to remain as confident and composed as possible; he couldn't give any hints that he was lying, or she would know. She always seemed to know.

"Regulus, you may hang out with any _pure-blooded Slytherin's_ that you like. I really do not care." Walburga said, her voice snappy and sharp.

Regulus managed to keep the smirk from quirking the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, mother. I'll take the Knight Bus."

"Do whatever you'd like, Regulus, just leave me alone. And be back by the 27th, we have a meeting with the Dark Lord."

Regulus nodded his head, and he hurried from the kitchen. It was only when he was back on the ground floor that he allowed a reaction from what his mother had said. Technically, Andromeda was a pure-blooded Slytherin. He wasn't going against her rules by spending the days with her.

Though, Regulus did have to admit, he was a little surprised that she hadn't asked more questions. Especially considering the fact that he had been Crucio'd the night before because of the mere prospect of being friends with a mudblood. Though, he assumed that his mother was probably just busy with everything going on with the Dark Lord; too busy to pay attention to every single detail of her son's life. In her eyes, he was still the ideal Black family heir, just with a few character flaws that she and her husband would need to correct. In Regulus's eyes, he was the same. He was still set on making his parents proud, and on fulfilling every single expectation that they had of him. Though, what would spending a few days with Andromeda change? It's not like those few days would change the way he saw the Dark Lord. No, this was just for fun. As soon as he returned, everything would be the same.

Well, everything would be the same, except for one small difference. But that wasn't important then, in that moment.

The next few hours seemed to drag on for an eternity. Though, when it was finally time for him to leave, he did so with excitement. He grabbed his book bag - which he had cast a small extendable charm on so that it would fit all of his necessities - and he threw the strap onto his shoulder.

Regulus bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he reached the entrance hall, he gripped the door handle, took a deep breath, and swung open the front door of Number 12.

The air outside was cold, and it sent a shiver down Regulus's spine. But it was fresh, and it meant that Regulus was free of the confines of Grimmauld Place, if only for a few days. He stepped out onto the front stoop, took a deep breath, and shoved his glove-covered hands into his coat pockets. He took the few steps off of the porch, walked to the decrepit fence that bordered the end of the Fidelius Charm, and he stepped out onto the sidewalk beyond.

Luckily, there were no muggles around to witness the tall, pale boy appearing out of seemingly empty air. Regulus took one last look over his shoulder, at the dark building that was Number 12, and then he turned and started down the sidewalk. He knew that his escape from the house was only temporary - he could never truly see himself running away, leaving for good - but it still felt refreshing to be walking away.

When he reached a place that he thought was safe from muggles, he drew his wand and held out his wand hand. There was a second in which Regulus was afraid that it hadn't worked, but suddenly, there was the purple, triple-decker bus. It appeared with a very loud _CRACK!_ and the screeching of tires, and Regulus jumped at the sound.

The driver of the Knight Bus opened the doors, and he held out his palm. "Eleven sickles," he said.

Regulus stepped up onto the bus, having to grab the railings on either side to pull himself up, and dug around in the pocket of his coat. He withdrew a handful of coins, and he quickly counted out eleven sickles.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Regulus replied. He dropped them into the palm of the driver, who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"You're a Black," he commented, closing his fist around the money and looking Regulus up and down.

Regulus nodded his head. "I am."

The driver seemed to debate a second on whether or not he wanted a member of the Black family on his bus, but he ceded. He pointed back with his thumb, and Regulus looked to his left at all of the seating options.

There were dining-room chairs, plush chairs, bean bag chairs, and even a few couches. Regulus walked to a light pink, flowery chair and dropped into it, sinking into the plush cushions. With another loud _CRACK!_ and a jolt, the Knight Bus started forward again. In that moment, Regulus was quite glad that he didn't experience motion sickness.

He glanced out of the window, watching as the world that was muggle London whirred by. He watched the Knight Bus take seemingly impossible turns and dodge cars, muggles, and buildings alike. Within minutes, they were stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and Regulus was standing from the chair with wobbly legs.

Regulus took a second to compose himself, and then quickly exited the bus. He heard the screeching of tires and the _BANG!_ that meant that the bus had left, and Regulus stood alone. He looked up and down the sidewalk, analyzing all of the muggles that filled the street. He noticed one boy who had warm brown hair and a wide grin on his face, pushing one of his friends and laughing hysterically as the boy stumbled and laughed as well.

Regulus quickly looked away, and he focused solely on the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron that stood in front of him. He stepped up, gripped the handle of the door, and swung it open.

Upon entering, he was immediately met with the delicious scent of several different lunches that were being cooked and served. Regulus kept his head down as he waded through the crowd of witches and wizards, hoping against hope that none of them recognized him.

When he reached the end back door, he pushed it open and stepped into the small, gravel-covered courtyard beyond. Regulus walked to the large brick wall ahead, drew his wand, and he carefully counted the bricks until he reached the one that he needed. He tapped the brick with the tip of his wand, and then stepped back as the wall began to dismantle itself and morph into a large archway.

Diagon Alley wasn't busy. This didn't surprise him, considering it was lunch time on a Tuesday, and it was so close to Christmas. Of course, there were still a select few witches and wizards scouring the alley, but not nearly as many as Regulus had expected. He was glad.

He walked down the main road, careful to keep his head down, just in case. However, when he reached the front of Flourish & Blotts, no one was there. He furrowed his brow and glanced at his watch. It was 1:01PM. Had Andromeda left? Was she inside? Where was she?

Regulus felt dread creeping up his spine; what would he tell his parents if he just showed back up? Would they question him? Would they find out? Would they use the Cruciatus on him again? This suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea.

What had Regulus been thinking?! This was a terrible idea! This had been a severe lapse of judgement, and Regulus needed to reverse it.

He turned on his heel, and he was just about to start back down the alley, when he felt someone grip firmly onto both of his upper arms from behind. Before he had time to react, he found himself with the familiar, uncomfortable feeling of side-along apparation, and the world spinning in front of him. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the nausea that was rising up in him.

As soon as Regulus and the mysterious person landed on solid ground, Regulus was released, and he fell onto the ground with a _thump_ and a groan.

"So sorry about that, darling," a familiar voice said, and a hand was reached out to help him up from the ground.

Regulus opened his eyes and looked up into the smiling face of his cousin, Andromeda Tonks. His eyes darted from her face to her hand, and he hesitantly reached out his own. She pulled him up from the ground and placed a hand firmly on both of his shoulders.

"My goodness, you've grown so much! What are you, 5'7? And your face! You look so much older!" Andromeda was staring in amazement at just how much her youngest cousin had grown. "I'm so glad you came!" And, before Regulus could say anything back, he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

His body went rigid at first, but there was a certain comfort that came with the hug. He melted into it, and he rested his cheek against Andromeda's shoulder, relishing in the safety and comfort that he found himself feeling in that moment. The doubts that he had been feeling mere seconds before were dissipating with every second that he spent in his cousin's tight embrace.

For, in that moment, Regulus was glad that he had made the decision to come, too.


	59. Nymphadora

Andromeda released Regulus from the embrace that she had pulled him into and held him by the shoulders at arms length, looking him up and down. "You look well," she commented, an expression of relief taking over her features.

Regulus nodded slowly. "Uh - so do you," he replied, unsure exactly how to respond; he hadn't expected it to be so hard and awkward speaking to his cousin again. However, it did make sense, especially considering everything that had changed.

Andromeda nodded her head in a snappy manner, and then quickly released Regulus. "Would you like something to drink?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Sure."

"Come on, then! You have to tell me everything!" She gestured for him to follow as she started away, which he did. As they walked, he took off his woolen gloves and shoved them into the pocket of his coat.

As he left the cozy living room, he looked around. The furniture was a mix of neutral colors, with little notes of yellow and green strewn throughout. The carpet was a light shade of taupe, but there were several rugs covering it.

Upon walking through a large archway that broke through the light-yellow painted walls, they entered a white-tiled kitchen. The walls were white, though there was a smattering of light pink flowers across. It was a large kitchen, considering the size of the house as a whole. The counters - which were made of a light wood with a beige countertop - wrapped around and covered two of the walls. There were upper cabinets made of a matching light wood shade, and they spanned the same amount of space as the counters beneath.

There was a sink, a stove-top, an oven which had been built on top of a counter, and a fridge. In the middle of the kitchen, there was a square white table with four light green chairs surrounding it and a vase with a few yellow flowers sticking out in the center.

Andromeda entered, gestured for Regulus to take a seat at the small table, and hurried to one of the cabinets. "What would you like to drink? We have tea, water, I believe we have some juice-"

"Do you have coffee?" He asked.

Andromeda gave him a look of surprise. "You drink coffee now?"

Regulus nodded his head. He saw a small smirk quirk the corner of her lips before she turned back to the cabinet. "Yes, we do have coffee," she grabbed several things from the cabinet, and piled them onto the counter.

Regulus watched as she drew her wand, put the kettle on, and levitated two mugs from one of the upper cabinets. "Ted and Nymphadora are out," Andromeda said, putting a few tea leaves in one cup, and an odd filter-looking thing on top of the other, "wanted to finish up with the Christmas shopping. We saved all of the decorating for today, in case you came and wanted to help. Of course, you don't have to, we just-"

"I'll help!" Regulus said hastily.

Andromeda flashed him a smile from over her shoulder, and she grabbed a few more things from the cabinets. "Well, excellent! That'll be fun!"

Regulus nodded his agreement. He had never properly decorated for Christmas before, but he suspected that it must be fun.

Andromeda finished with both of their drinks, cleaned and put everything away with a few flicks of her wand, and she dropped into the seat across from Regulus. Regulus took the mug of coffee from her outstretched hand, and he cupped it in both of his. He let out a sigh of relief as the warmth seeped from the porcelain cup and into his cold hands.

"So, you must tell me everything! How are you liking school?" Andromeda started, looking at her youngest cousin in interest.

Regulus took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the warmth that travelled down his throat and into his belly, warming his body. "It's good. I like it." He responded, setting the cup gingerly onto the table.

Andromeda took a drink of her tea and nodded her head slowly. "What's your best subject?"

"Care of Magical Creatures. I think it's my favorite class, too."

Andromeda smiled. "Yes, you always did have an interest in magical creatures, didn't you? I'm glad you like the school! How are the teachers?"

"Yeah, they're alright. I like Professor Kettleburn because, sometimes, he'll let me help him feed the creatures. Slughorn is... well, he's something, I s'pose. He keeps inviting me to these Slug Club meetings, but I've managed to get out of them all this year because of Quidditch."

"You're on the Quidditch team?!" Andromeda asked, giving him a look of surprise.

He nodded. "I've been playing Seeker for Slytherin since last year."

"Wow. And you like it?" He nodded again. "Well, that's good! I'm happy for you! Merlin knows we needed a new Seeker. Our last one was... not the best."

Regulus let out a breath of laughter, and then continued. "Our Defense teachers never last long, though."

"Ah, yes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts curse," Andromeda nodded her head, a small smile on her lips. "That's still going on, is it?"

"The what?" Asked Regulus.

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts curse? You haven't heard of it? Oh, well, people think that the post is cursed. No one has held the job for more than a year in who knows how long. How have yours been, so far? Ours were all either very good or very bad, there was really no in between."

"Ours have been good. First year, we had this teacher named Milo Bell. He was sort of weird, and he made us sit next to the Gryffindors, but I think that he was a good teacher." Andromeda was giving him a funny look, so he paused in his explanation. "What?"

"What was his name?" She asked.

"Milo Bell?" The same odd look crossed over her face. "Why?"

"Oh, just... it's probably a coincidence. Anyways, go on?" The same warm smile found its place on her face, and Regulus continued.

"Then, our second year, we had an auror named Amiyah Cole. The Slytherins didn't really like her. She was alright, I s'pose. But, because she was an auror, she was out a few times, so we had substitutes. One of them was these two twins - the Prewett twins, I think they said their names were - and they were funny. They only lasted a few days, though. Then there was Kingsley Shacklebolt for a few days, and he was an alright bloke. Now we have a guy named Nicholas Wilson. He does a lot of practical lessons." Regulus explained.

Andromeda nodded along with the explanation. "I remember the Prewett twins. I believe they were in their sixth year when I was in my first. You're right, they were funny. They would pull pranks all of the time. Filch's worst nightmare, those two were. I suppose your brother and his friends have taken that place now, though?"

Regulus nodded his head, and he looked at the cup of coffee; he always got rather silent whenever someone would bring Sirius up. "So, who are you friends with?" Andromeda asked, noticing the uncomfort that the statement had brought upon her cousin and wanting to change the subject.

Regulus looked at her. "My best mate is a bloke in my year named Barty Crouch Jr. - yeah, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's son - and then there's Gillian Fairman, she's really nice and we've been friends since last year. There was also Carson Nott, but he graduated last year."

"Gillian Fairman and Carson Nott? Huh, I remember them. Dating, aren't they?"

"They were." Regulus still didn't fully understand why they couldn't be together. Sure, Gillian was arranged to be married to Corban Yaxley, but why did that matter? Carson Nott was a pure-blood, too! They could still continue their blood lines! It didn't make any sense to him.

"So you're friends with them?" Andromeda asked.

Regulus nodded. "Yeah. They're both really nice."

"Anyone else?"

Regulus thought a moment. Of course, there was Deacon Ackland. But they weren't friends, and Regulus didn't really want to talk about the boy. It didn't matter that it was with Andromeda, he still didn't feel comfortable talking about how he wanted to be mates with a mudblood.

"I don't think so," he said.

The two were silent again. "How have you been?" Regulus finally asked, realizing that he had only been talking about himself this entire time.

"Oh, I've been well. Like I said in my letter, I've been very busy with Nymphadora. She reminds me a lot of you and Sirius when you were younger. She just loves to get into trouble. Ted and I have really had our hands full with her."

"How old is she?"

"She'll be two in May," Andromeda responded.

Regulus nodded his head. There was silence. Only, this time, instead of one of the two of them breaking it, it was a man's voice.

"Nymphadora, stop that! We're home!" The man called, and there was the sound of fast and light footsteps padding through the living room, and into the kitchen.

Regulus looked over at the creator of the footsteps, and his eyes landed on a very small girl. She had rosy cheeks, a red nose, blue eyes, mousy brown hair that reached her shoulders, and she was bundled up in several layers of warm clothing. Her eyes landed on Regulus, and she gave a squeal of excitement.

"SURUS! SURUS!" She called, and she ran over to him with her arms open wide.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his right leg and fell onto the tiled floor, pressing her cheek firmly against his trousers. He looked down at her, and then up at the next form who was entering the room. Ted Tonks was a rather tall man with brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. His cheeks were just as flushed as his daughter's, he was wearing just as many layers of warm clothing, and bags were hanging from both of his arms.

"Oh, hello!" He quickly set the bags down on the carpeted floor of the living room, just behind the archway, and took his gloves off. "You must be Regulus!" He walked over to the boy and stuck out a hand. "Ted Tonks. It's very nice to meet you!"

Regulus shook the man's hand, and he gave him a tight-lipped smile. "It's nice to meet you, too." He replied.

Ted withdrew his hand, and that's when he noticed that his daughter was still clung tightly to Regulus's leg. "Nymphadora! Sorry about that, she grew quite a liking to your brother."

"It's alright," Regulus assured him.

Ted Tonks pried Nymphadora off of Regulus's leg, much to her protest. "SURUS! SURUS!" She shouted, flailing her arms and legs about as her father lifted her from the floor and into his arms.

"That's not Sirius, Nymphadora! This is your other cousin, Regulus." Ted said.

Nymphadora stopped fussing, and she looked at Regulus in confusion. She then turned to her father, and she pointed at Regulus with a pudgy finger. "Surus!"

"No, that's _Regulus_ ," said Ted.

Nymphadora looked at Regulus, and her face quickly broke into a wide grin. With a faint _pop_ , Nymphadora Tonks's hair changed from the mousy brown to a vibrant shade of yellow, and she began bouncing in her father's arms. "REGLUS! REGLUS!"

"No, darling, it's Reg-U-lus," Andromeda corrected her daughter, standing up from where she had still been seated at the table, and taking a place beside her husband.

"REGLUS! REGLUS! REGLUS!" Nymphadora shouted.

Andromeda shook her head, though she couldn't seem to keep the smile from her face. "Sorry about that, Regulus, she doesn't exactly know how to pronounce many things yet."

"Oh, it's fine," Regulus assured her.

He stared at the little girl in fascination. She was just so... _small_. She couldn't be more than two feet tall! Had Regulus been that small once?

"Did you get everything you needed?" Andromeda asked Ted, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and doing the same to Nymphadora.

Ted nodded his head. "Yeah. It was quite busy, so it took longer than expected. And Nymphadora here had the bright idea to change her hair color from brown to _bright blue_ in the middle of a muggle mall."

"What?! No one saw, did they?!" Andromeda asked, her brow creased with panic.

Ted shook his head. "Well, one woman did see her hair after it had already changed - I got a rather nasty glare and remark for that one. "What kind of father would let their child have hair like that?"." Ted rolled his eyes.

Andromeda clucked her tongue and looked at her daughter. "Honestly, Nymphadora. Not even two years old yet and already breaking the Statute of Secrecy? What are we going to do with you."

Nymphadora giggled, scrunched up her nose, and her hair faded from the sunshine yellow to a brilliant shade of teal. Regulus stared in amazement; he had never seen a metamorphmagus change their hair color in front of him. It was very cool, Regulus did have to admit.

"Can you take her? I need to go shower," Ted asked, motioning to hand his daughter to Andromeda.

Andromeda took Nymphadora and rested her comfortably on her hip, giving her husband a quick kiss before looking to her daughter. "Are you hungry, sweetheart?"

"HUNGY!" Nymphadora responded, and Andromeda let out a breathy laugh.

Ted watched his wife and daughter with a smile on his face, and then turned to Regulus, who was still sipping away at his coffee at the table. "Are you helping us with the decorations later?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Excellent! Ok, I think we can start in a few hours. Sound good?" Regulus nodded again.

Ted disappeared through the archway, leaving Regulus, Andromeda, and Nymphadora alone. He watched as the man left the kitchen - he seemed rather nice; especially considering the fact that he was a muggle-born. He sort of reminded Regulus of Deacon Ackland, in an odd way.

Andromeda used her wand to replace one of the four dining room chairs with a high chair, and she rested Nymphadora gently inside.

"Regulus, would you like something to eat? You must be famished!" Andromeda said, opening a drawer and pulling out a small spoon while she cast a silent levitation charm and lowered a jar of baby food from one of the upper cabinets.

Regulus shook his head. "No, I'm alright."

"Are you sure? It's no trouble, really. I can make you a sandwich, or we have some lasagna left over from last night that I can heat up for you. I believe we also have some crisps somewhere in here, maybe some sweets in one of these cabinets-"

"It's ok, really." Regulus assured her.

Andromeda gave him a disbelieving look, and then grabbed an apple from the counter and tossed it towards him without warning. He caught it with ease, and Andromeda gave him an impressed gaze. "Well, I can see why you made Seeker. At least eat that."

Regulus ceded, and he took a bite from the honeycrisp apple that he had been given. Andromeda sat back down in her seat across from Regulus and began spoon feeding a rather unappetizing jar of orange mush to her. Though, as gross as it looked to Regulus, Nymphadora seemed to be liking it. At least, she wasn't protesting it.

By the time Regulus had finished his apple and coffee, and Andromeda had finished feeding Nymphadora, the shower from upstairs had turned off and there were footsteps echoing down the stairs. Ted reentered the kitchen just as Andromeda was putting away the remaining food into the cabinet.

Regulus stood up, too, mug and apple core in hand. He walked over to Andromeda and held them up. "What should I do with these?" He asked.

"Give the cup to me, and you can throw away the apple core in the rubbish bin just over there," she gestured to a small bin which was on the other side of the fridge. Regulus handed her the cup, and then did what she had told him to with the apple core.

"Ted, have you gotten the Christmas decorations out yet?" Andromeda asked, using her wand to wash and return the mug to its proper place.

Ted Tonks, who had been making silly faces at Nymphadora, who was giggling rather uproariously, looked up. "Yeah, I put them all into the hall closet last night."

"Would you like to get started?" She asked, though she was directing the question at Regulus rather than Ted.

He shrugged. "Sure."

Decorating for Christmas was much more fun than Regulus had thought it would be. Ted and Andromeda had worked together to levitate a large evergreen tree from the backyard and into an empty corner of the living room, just beside the brick fireplace. Regulus sat on the couch, being sure that Nymphadora didn't get into too much trouble while her parents were busy.

After the tree had been successfully placed, then came the actual decorations. Andromeda and Regulus worked on decorating the tree with strings of lights, tinsel, and ornaments that Ted had had in his family for a few years. Of course, there were some new ones that Andromeda said he had bought the year before, but most of them were old and apparently rather sentimental.

Ted was working on putting up strings of tinsel and lights, similar to what Andromeda and Regulus were putting on the tree, just around the room itself instead. Nymphadora was running around the living room, giggling and playing with two small figures that Ted had given her to play with.

Regulus, admittedly, was having a lot of fun with the Tonks's. Their family dynamic was completely different from that of the Black family, and Regulus found that he actually quite enjoyed it. They were happy - the type of happiness that was contagious. Regulus couldn't help but feel a lift in his mood while he was with the small three-person family, and he found himself, once again, incredibly glad that he had decided to come after all.

It didn't take the four of them very long, and by the time they were done, the living room looked like a winter wonderland. Ted had plugged the lights into an odd hole in the wall, and they had turned on immediately.

"How does that work?" Regulus asked, pointing to the base of the lights - which had all been connected to one another.

"Electricity," Ted responded, hands on his hips, admiring the room before him.

"What?" Regulus asked; he had never heard of anything called electricity before.

"It's what muggles use for power. You know, since they don't have magic to power things." Andromeda explained.

"Oh. Weird."

At dinner that night, the kitchen was more lively than Regulus had ever thought a kitchen could be. Ted and Andromeda were bustling around, laughing with one another and helping each other prepare what they were to be eating. Nymphadora was sat in her high chair, giggling and repeatedly changing her features or her hair.

"REGLUS, LOOK! REGLUS, LOOK!" Nymphadora shouted, and with a scrunched nose and faint _pop_ , her nose extended and morphed itself into a duck's bill.

Regulus chuckled, and he clapped his hands politely. "That's really good!" He said, and she popped her nose back to its normal shape and let out as squeal of excitement.

Regulus had never really been around children, aside from his brother. Though, he didn't think that that counted, seeing as how not only was he a child as well, but he was also the younger of the two. He did have to admit, they weren't as bad as he thought they would be. Nymphadora was actually rather entertaining, but he thought that this was probably because she was a metamorphmagus, and not a normal child. Still, he enjoyed her company much more than he had expected he would.

In fact, he was enjoying himself as a whole more than he thought he would. Ted was a nice man, and he could definitely see what had drawn his cousin to him; they had similar personalities. Of course, Andromeda was much more serious than Ted was, but Regulus thought that this could be explained by her upbringing. Andromeda was well, too, and it made Regulus happy to see. At least she was happy, even if it meant that Regulus could rarely ever see her. Seeing her interact with Ted and Nymphadora brought a sort of closure to Regulus, and he was, yet again, incredibly grateful that he had decided to come.

During the meal itself, everyone was happy. They were all having casual conversations, and Ted and Andromeda were being very careful to integrate Regulus into them so that he didn't feel left out.

Regulus was happy; it felt almost like it had when they were kids. Well, without the addition of Sirius, of course. However, Regulus was still having fun. He was having a lot of fun.

Though, there was still one question in the back of his mind; why had Andromeda invited him? As far as Regulus was concerned, she and Sirius had completely given up on the Black family. On _every member_ of the Black family. So, what made Regulus any different?

When dinner was over, Andromeda and Regulus said goodnight to Nymphadora, and Ted disappeared into the living room with her, headed off to put her to sleep. Regulus helped Andromeda clean everything up, for he felt quite guilty that the two of them were being so hospitable to Regulus and he hadn't done anything for them in return.

"What did you tell your parents you were going to be doing for these next few days?" Andromeda asked as Regulus cleared all of the dirty dishes from the table and walked them to the sink.

"I told them I was staying with my friend Barty." Regulus responded.

Andromeda nodded her head slowly. "And they believed you?"

Regulus nodded. "I don't think mother cared very much. She said that I could hang out with any pure-blooded Slytherins that I want, so technically, I'm not even going against her wishes," he added.

Andromeda gave him a look of amusement. "I suppose you aren't." She grabbed a few empty tupperware containers from the cabinet and brought them over to the counter where she had placed all of the remaining food. "Do you need to be back by a certain day?"

"Mother said I have to be back by the 27th." Regulus said.

Andromeda nodded her head. "Alright. I can drop you off in Diagon Alley on that day. You can use our owl to write your friends and see if they want to meet you there, if you'd like." She offered.

Regulus nodded his head. "Thanks."

"Of course," she gave him a smile.

There was a silence.

"How have you been? Really?" Andromeda finally asked, and Regulus could hear the concern clear in her voice.

Regulus shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I'm alright."

"Regulus," Andromeda dropped the towel that she had been using to clean her hands onto the counter, and she turned to look at him, "tell me the truth. How are you?"

Regulus stood still for a few seconds, thoughts running through his head. He couldn't tell Andromeda about the Cruciatus. He just couldn't. But he wanted to. Oh he really, really wanted someone to talk to about it.

"I'm alright. Promise." He assured her, but even he could hear the doubt that was laced within the statement.

Andromeda didn't press any further. She was, in all honesty, shocked that he had chosen to come in the first place. She didn't want to ruin it by driving him away. However, she knew that there was definitely more - something that he wasn't telling her. What it was, she was unsure. But whatever it was, Andromeda suspected that it must be very bad.

The two of them finished cleaning everything up in silence. Regulus let out a stifled yawn once they were finished. "If you're tired, I can show you to the room you'll be staying in," Andromeda offered, drying her hands on a small hand towel which hung from the handle of the fridge.

Regulus nodded his head, and Andromeda led him out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down a skinny hallway. Regulus looked at the portraits that lined the walls of the hallway as they walked past. There were some muggle photographs of people who Regulus could only assume to be Ted's family. Along with these, there were wizarding photographs of the small family, as well as a select few of Andromeda.

Regulus faltered in his step when his eyes landed upon a familiar photograph. It was the same one that he had tucked away in his nightstand drawer, of him and Andromeda on the bench, only bigger. He looked at it in surprise; he hadn't really expected to see a photograph of himself in his cousin's home.

Andromeda looked over her shoulder, noticed what his attention had been drawn to, and smiled. "I do like that picture," she said, taking a few steps back and stopping next to him.

Regulus nodded. "Me too," he agreed.

He really did like that picture. It showed a much simpler time; a time in which the world hadn't been so black and white to him. A time that Regulus longed to go back to.

Andromeda liked it for a similar reason. That picture showed her youngest cousin when he was just a child; a child who didn't hold all of the prejudices, burdens, and expectations that were weighing down on the boy beside her. She, too, longed to go back to a time like that. A time where her cousin was happy - most of the time.

Regulus swallowed the lump that was rising in his throat, and the two continued down the hall. When Andromeda reached the furthest door to the right, she opened it and stepped inside. Regulus stepped inside, too, and his eyes roved the room.

It was small, but not so small that he couldn't possibly live in it. There was a twin size bed with light yellow sheets, a matching comforter, and pillows with white cases. The floor was carpet, a similar shade to the one that filled the living room. There was a dresser, a mirror, two bedside tables, and a closet.

Regulus walked over to the bed and dropped down his book bag - which he had grabbed from the living room on their way up.

"Would you like me to show you where the bathroom is so you can get ready for bed?" Andromeda asked, and Regulus nodded.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Andromeda returned to the room. Regulus was laying in bed, already quite sleepy - he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before; he had been much too nervous about what would happen if his parents found out where he was really going.

She knocked quietly on the doorframe to gather his attention, and he looked at her with tired eyes.

"Just wanted to make sure everything was alright," she said, a smile on her face.

Regulus nodded his head. "Everything's fine," he replied, his eyelids heavy from sleep.

"Good. Ok, well, if you need anything, I'm just down the hall to your left and second door on the right. Goodnight, Regulus."

"Goodnight," he murmured.

However, just as Andromeda was about to turn around and leave, the question that Regulus had had earlier popped into his mind. He thought of just letting her go and allowing the question to stir in his mind. Though, he had an inkling that he wouldn't be able to sleep if the question was left unanswered.

"Andromeda?" Regulus called, just before she had closed the door.

She turned around and looked at him, a curious expression on her face. "Yes?"

Regulus was quiet a moment, unsure how to say what he needed to say. "Why... why did you invite me?" He asked.

Andromeda took a step back into the room and tilted her head. "You're my cousin! Why wouldn't I invite you?"

"Sirius wouldn't have."

Andromeda suddenly understood what Regulus was saying, and she looked at her cousin in sympathy. She quickly crossed the room, sitting herself down on the edge of his bed and looking directly at him. "Regulus, your brother... well, he's just so..." she paused, trying to gather her thoughts and put them into words. "Your brother is so determined to disobey the family," she finally started, speaking slowly; carefully, "that I think he has a hard time determining the ones that he should shut out, and the ones that he shouldn't."

"He hasn't shut you out." Regulus mumbled.

"Of course he hasn't! I'm the Black family blood traitor, remember?" Andromeda had expected him to laugh at the statement, but he didn't. She sighed, and she looked him directly in the eyes. "I know that it hurts, Regulus. Losing a sibling and feeling like there's nothing that you can do about it? Merlin, do I know what it feels like. And I know that, right now, it feels like things are never going to get better. And they might not, I won't lie to you. They could never get better. The only thing that you can really do right now, Regulus, is to just have patience with your brother. Give him some space, and just hope that - one day - he'll realize what he's doing and come back to you."

Regulus nodded his head slowly. "Is that what you hope? That Narcissa and Bellatrix will want to be close with you again one day?"

Andromeda nodded her had. "I do."

Regulus was silent a moment. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be!" Andromeda gave him a smile, and then stood from the bed. "Now, it's getting late. Go to sleep! It's Christmas tomorrow! If you need anything, I'm just down the hall, alright? But otherwise, I'll see you in the morning." She crossed the room, but stopped in the doorway. "And, Regulus?"

"Hm?" Regulus called, already snuggled up beneath the covers, ready to fall fast asleep.

"I really hope that Sirius realizes. For your sake."

Regulus was silent. Andromeda shut the door behind her, though she didn't start down the hallway. Instead, she leaned back against the solid wood behind her, and she thought.

For, ever since Regulus had been brought to Andromeda's house, she saw a boy whom she didn't recognize. A boy that was baring burdens and problems that even adults shouldn't have to handle. A boy who was living a life that no one should be forced to live. A boy who was heading head first into war. A boy who the war was going to change. A boy who the war was going to kill. And, more than anything, she wanted to protect him from it.

However, just based off of the seventeen years that she had spent in the Black family, she knew that there was chance that Regulus Black was already too far gone. And it broke her heart.


	60. Christmas Day, 1974

Regulus Black awoke the next morning with excitement coursing through his veins. No matter how many disappointing Christmas's he had had in his life, nothing could take away from the initial excitement that one gets when realizing what day it was.

At first, Regulus had forgotten where he was. He tore off the odd yellow comforter and looked around the small room with light wood accents, confused. He was just about to call Kreacher - to ask Kreacher where on earth he was - when the door to his left was suddenly opened.

Regulus jumped at the sound of the door hitting the wall behind, and he prepared himself, thinking it was his parents. He tried to build up those same defenses that might - hopefully - spare him at least an ounce of the pain that the Cruciatus curse would force him to endure. However, when a small girl with light pink hair, rosy cheeks, pudgy hands, and bright green eyes stepped into the room, he tilted his head in confusion. The little girl mirrored this action, and then her chubby face broke into a wide grin.

"REGLUS!" She called, and she ran over to the bed with her arms wide open.

"Nymphadora!" A woman's voice sounded from down the hall, and then in walked a frantic Andromeda Tonks. She saw her daughter jumping on the end of Regulus's bed in excitement, and the recognition that seemed to dawn on her cousin's face when she walked in. "Nymphadora, stop that! I'm so sorry, Regulus, did she wake you?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I was already awake," he assured her, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep.

"Nymphadora, leave the poor boy alone!" Andromeda rushed over to Regulus's bed and snatched the little girl up, much to Nymphadora's protest. "Sorry about this. But, seeing as how you're awake, come downstairs! It's Christmas!" She turned and started for the door, but stopped suddenly in the frame. "Oh! There's some parchment and a quill in the den downstairs , if you'd like to write your friends."

Regulus watched Andromeda leave the room, shutting the door behind herself. Regulus laid back on the bed with a contented sigh; at least there was no way his parents could use the Cruciatus on him - and Sirius couldn't hex him - on Christmas. And, in his mind, that made this one already ten times better than the last.

Regulus extended his arms and legs as far as they would go, relishing in the stretch and relaxation of his muscles. With a sigh of relief, Regulus stood from the bed and padded across the room with stockinged feet. He did have to admit, he liked the warmth of carpet much better than the ice-cold of the hardwood floors back home at Number 12.

When Regulus reached the sitting room, Ted Tonks was just coming through with a fussy Nymphadora in his arms. "You have to eat breakfast first, Dora! Oh, good morning, Regulus! How'd you sleep?"

Regulus shrugged. "Good," he responded, reaching up a hand and running his fingers through his curly black hair.

"Excellent! Breakfast is almost ready, but Andy said you wanted to write to someone?" Regulus nodded. "Alright! The den is just down that hall and to your right," Ted pointed down the very hall which Regulus had just come from.

"Ok. Thank you."

"No problem! If you need help with anything, I'll be in the kitchen," he flashed the boy a smile, and then continued into the kitchen with his daughter.

Regulus entered the den, and he looked around it. It was a small room with a desk sitting just beneath a window, several large bookcases, a small reading corner with plush chairs, and a large rug in the middle. Regulus walked over to the desk and sat down, taking a piece of parchment from the stack in front of him and grabbing the quill from where it had been rested in a pot of ink.

_Barty,_   
_Would you like to hang out in Diagon Alley for a little bit on the 27th? Let me know._

_R.A.B._

He wrote two more letters to Gillian and Carson, folded them all up, slipped them into respective envelopes, and left the den. When Regulus entered the kitchen, Andromeda almost ran right into him.

"Sorry about that! Did you write your letters?" She asked, reaching out her hands to help steady him.

Regulus nodded his head and held them up. "Can I send them?"

"Yes, of course! Our owl should be here with the Daily Prophet soon, you can send them off with him." She gave him a smile, and then placed a hand on his back to guide him into the kitchen. "Happy Christmas, by the way!"

"Happy Christmas," he replied.

"HAPPY CHRIZMAS!" Nymphadora shouted from her high chair, and Ted and Andromeda both laughed.

Regulus took his seat at the table, and Ted looked at him from where he was getting ingredients down from the cabinets with his wand. "What would you like for breakfast, Regulus? We can do pancakes, waffles, oatmeal, french toast, eggs, bacon, whatever you'd like."

"Waffles is fine," Regulus said, giving the man a smile.

"Waffles it is!" And Ted set to work.

Andromeda placed a mug of hot coffee on the table in front of Regulus, and he gave her a gratified smile. "Ok, so, we're going to open presents today, and then we were thinking of possibly going on a walk down to the park down the street? If you don't want to, I totally get it - what with your parents and all. It's up to you."

Regulus was silent a moment. He really wanted to go on a walk with his cousin and her family, but he knew that he couldn't risk being seen by anyone. "You guys can go, I'll stay here." He said.

"I don't want to leave you alone on Christmas! It's alright, we'll just stay here."

"Andromeda, it's fine. You can go if you want to. I have a lot of holiday homework to catch up on, anyways." He assured her.

Andromeda looked at him unsurely. "You're sure? Because, it really won't be a problem for us to stay here-"

" _Go_. I mean it, I'll be fine." He gave her a smile of what he hoped would come off as reassurance.

"Ok..." Andromeda said, but she still sounded unsure.

Regulus really did want them to go. Not only did he actually have homework that he still needed to do, he would appreciate a little bit of time to himself so that he could think things over.

After breakfast, the four occupants of the kitchen migrated out to the sitting room. Regulus took a seat on the couch, Andromeda next to him, and Ted and Nymphadora walked towards the tree in the corner. There were presents piled underneath, and Regulus watched as Ted began to shuffle through them.

"Alright, let's see... here you are, Dora. Andy, here's one for you... and here you go, Regulus, here it is." He handed Regulus a package which was wrapped neatly in red and silver striped Christmas paper.

Regulus looked at the package in surprise, and then to his cousin, and then to Ted. "You got me presents?"

"Of course we did!" Exclaimed Andromeda, a smile on her face. "What, did you really think we wouldn't get you anything?"

"I didn't get you anything," he muttered, guilt welling up in him.

"Regulus, you're here. That's enough." Andromeda assured him.

Regulus took the package from Ted, and the opening of their Christmas gifts commenced.

Back in Scotland, in a corner hidden from the rest of the world, there lay two boys in their dorm room.

Deacon Ackland was still fast asleep, but Francesco Anderson hadn't been able to fall asleep at all. He was sitting up on his bed, staring at the empty air ahead of him, thinking. Ever since Benji had left for holiday, it had just been Francesco and Deacon. Deacon's other friend, Emerson, who he normally hung out with on holidays, had gone home this year. So, it was really just the two boys.

Of course, there were other Gryffindors who had stayed. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were two of them, but Francesco and Deacon didn't actively hang out with the two of them. So, most of them time, it was just the two boys.

It was awkward. So, so incredibly awkward. Ever since Francesco had made his... discovery, he had gone back to avoiding the smaller boy. Now that the feelings were placed, he liked them even less. Because, how on earth could Francesco Anderson be a boy who liked other boys? It didn't make any sense! It wasn't supposed to be this way! Francesco was supposed to like girls, just like every other ruddy boy on the planet!

And besides, even if Francesco _did_ like boys, who's to say that Deacon did? He had liked Clementine last year! He wasn't into other boys!

So, Francesco had resorted to ignoring him once again. He did feel bad, but it was only for a little bit. Only until he could figure out how to get rid of the stupid butterflies in his stomach every time Deacon talked, or looked at him, or laughed.

When he heard Deacon yawn from the bed beside him, he knew that the boy was awake. Normally, he would have just pretended that he was still asleep, but it was Christmas. And, as much as Francesco wanted to not be around the boy at the current moment, he also wanted to make sure that Deacon had a good holiday. So, he took a deep breath, pulled back the curtains of his own bed, and stepped onto the hardwood floors below.

"Morning," he called, turning his upper body this way and that to stretch out the muscles in his back.

"Talking to me now, are you?" Deacon called back, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"I was never not talking to you," Francesco said, hoping that what he was saying would sound convincing enough.

Deacon sighed and walked 'round his bed, stepping into the middle of the room. "I know. Sorry."

Francesco shook his head. "Don't apologize." He was keeping his eyes carefully averted from the boy, looking at anything and everything else that he could.

His eyes landed upon a letter which had been delivered the hour prior. "Oh, this came for you," Francesco grabbed it and place it in Deacon's outstretched hand, still being careful not to lock eyes with him.

"Thanks," Deacon mumbled, taking the letter and walking back to his bed.

He didn't know why Francesco had stared ignoring him again, but he had. It had all started the first day of Christmas break, after Benji had left. Deacon didn't know why, but he still had the sinking suspicion that Francesco was ignoring Deacon because of something that he had done. What that thing was, Deacon was completely unsure. However, whatever it was, it was obviously enough to have Francesco ignore him again.

Deacon wanted to ask his friend about it, but he didn't want to seem like he was too hurt about it. If he did, then he knew that Francesco would probably feel bad. And he really didn't want him to feel bad. So, he pretended that it wasn't affecting him. In fact, he didn't really know where the comment to Francesco had come from; he assumed that it was probably just the early-morning attitude that Deacon sometimes awoke with.

Francesco sat back down on his own bed, rather uninterested in the presents that were sitting at the end of his bed; his mind was running a mile a minute.

When Deacon sniffed and Francesco heard the crumpling of paper, however, his interest was piqued. "Who was it from?" He asked.

"No one," responded Deacon, and Francesco heard him opening and closing his nightstand drawer.

Francesco was silent a moment. "Want to talk about it?"

"No." Deacon quickly changed into his clothes for the day and started towards the dormitory door. "I'm going down to breakfast," and he disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Francesco sat on his bed for a few seconds, just to be sure that Deacon was actually gone, and then quickly rushed around his own bed and over to Deacon's. When he opened the nightstand drawer, there was the crumpled up letter. Francesco debated for a second on whether or not to actually read it - Deacon didn't want him to know about it for a reason. However, curiosity got the better of him, and he withdrew the letter, uncrumpled it, and began to read.

_Deacon,_   
_Can you stop writing me?! It's bloody annoying! And besides, how am I supposed to explain to my friends why I keep getting a bunch of letters delivered by owl? It's freaky! They're going to think I'm a freak, just like you!_   
_I don't care about all of your stupid school problems or about that stupid sport. It's probably not even a real sport! Nothing with a team composed of freaks like you could ever be considered a real sport._   
_Since you keep bloody asking, I'm doing great. Life is fantastic without you here! We don't have annoying little prats running around and complaining all the time! It's refreshing!_   
_I hope you have a bad Christmas._

_Jaxon._

Francesco sighed, and he felt guilt rising up in him. Of course it had been from Deacon's family! Deacon's family was made up of just about the worst people that Francesco had ever heard of. Well, aside from the Blacks, Lestranges, and Malfoys, of course.

Francesco crumpled the letter back up, threw it back into the drawer, and then sat down on his own bed. Francesco focused on the thoughts that were circling around his head. He thought about Deacon, and he felt that same twisting sensation in his stomach. Francesco closed his eyes, and he let out a heavy sigh.

If he was going to get the same stupid feelings just by thinking about Deacon, then what was really the point in ignoring him?

So, when Deacon reentered the dorm room after breakfast, Francesco was ready. He crossed the room and wrapped Deacon into a tight hug, which caused Deacon's entire body to go rigid. However, when Francesco didn't let go, Deacon melted into it and wrapped his own arms around the boy.

And so, there the two boys stood, holding one another, butterflies erupting in their stomachs and their hearts beating double-time.

Regulus helped Andromeda make Christmas cookies that afternoon. Regulus had never made them before, and Andromeda kept insisting that they were one of the best parts of Christmas. So, there the two Blacks stood, making cookies.

"Couldn't you do this in like, five minutes with magic?" Regulus asked, using an odd metal contraption to mix two eggs together.

"I reckon we could, yes, but then you don't get the satisfaction of doing it the muggle way, do you? And besides, isn't this fun?!" Andromeda replied, folding together several of the dry ingredients in a big metal bowl.

Regulus had to admit, it was rather fun.

"After these are out of the oven, Ted and I were going to take Nymphadora on that walk. But, if you changed your mind, of course-"

"I'll be fine, Andromeda. I promise. I'm just going to catch up on some holiday homework." He thought of the half-finished History of Magic essay in his bag upstairs; the one that he had been working on when his parents had used the Cruciatus on him. A chill went down his spine.

"Are you cold? We can turn on the heat," Andromeda said, noticing the shivering spasm of her cousin.

"Oh, no, it's fine. I'm not," he assured her.

He really wasn't. He was wearing a long sleeve black shirt beneath the Christmas jumper that Carson had given him the year before. The jumper had really put into perspective how much Regulus had grown. Instead of hanging well past his fingertips, the sleeves only reached to about the middle of his fingers when they weren't rolled up. The bottom hung loosely at his upper leg, much higher than it had before. Yes, it was still quite big on him, but it had a much better fit to it than the year before.

When the two of them had finished combining the ingredients, they were both covered in a light dusting of flour, and Regulus's jet black hair had a smattering of tiny, white flour specks. While making cookies the muggle was was admittedly quite fun, it was also very messy. However, Andromeda was able to clean the both of them up with a flick of her wand, and she put the cookies into the oven with two, large oven mitts.

"While those are cooking, I'm going to go take a quick shower. Would you mind watching Nymphadora for me? Ted's at the store still," Andromeda said, setting away to her cleaning spells.

"Uh... sure." Regulus said, though he wasn't sure. Sure, he had been spending time with Nymphadora for the past day, and nothing bad had happened. But that was always while Ted and Andromeda were around. Regulus - if he was being completely honest - didn't really trust himself with children. He could barely keep himself out of trouble half of the time, how was he supposed to keep an entire other human being in check?

"You'll be fine, don't worry. She tends to listen... most of the time. Just keep her away from anything dangerous. We've taken most of it out of the house or put it out of her reach, anyways, but she is quite wild sometimes."

Regulus was nodding along, the dread settling in ever-so-slowly. Andromeda and Regulus entered the living room where Nymphadora was sat, playing with a toy wand which only sent different colored sparks, no matter what spell was cast.

"Nymphadora, Regulus is going to watch you for a bit, ok?" Andromeda said, kneeling beside her daughter and placing a gentle hand on her back.

Nymphadora looked at her mum with a smile. "Ok, mummy!" She said, and she giggled as she cast another jet of blue sparks.

Andromeda planted a kiss on the top of her daughter's head, and she stood up straight. "Ted should be home shortly. If something goes wrong, or if you need anything, just shout and I'll come as soon as I can."

"Alright," Regulus said, giving Andromeda a smile which he hoped would succeed in feigning confidence.

Andromeda disappeared into the hall and up the stairs, leaving Regulus quite alone with her infant daughter. He sat down on the couch and watched Nymphadora as she shot spark after spark of different colors from the wand, giggling at each one. Though - as children do - she quickly grew bored of the activity and tossed the wand aside.

She looked around the room for something else to do, and her eyes landed on Regulus. She smiled a toothy - or, what would have been toothy if all of her teeth had grown in already - grin, and waved a pudgy hand at him.

"Hi, Reglus!" She said.

"Hello, Nymphadora," Regulus responded, giving the little girl and smile and a wave.

"Wand?" Nymphadora held the fake wand out to Regulus.

"No thanks," said Regulus, and he drew his own wand from where it was shoved in the pocket of his pants, "I have my own wand." He held it between his fingertips, and Nymphadora looked at it in amazement.

She stood up from the ground and walked over to Regulus, staring at the wand with a tilted head. "Mine?" She asked, pointing at it.

"No, this is _my_ wand. You'll get your own when you're eleven."

"Colors?" She asked, gesturing to the fake wand, and then to Regulus's.

Regulus assumed that she was talking about the colorful sparks that shot from the end of the toy wand. He weighed his options for a moment, trying to decide whether it would be worth it to cast a spell outside of school. However, he decided that the Ministry wouldn't be able to tell if it was really him, anyways. The trace not only alerted the Ministry of use of magic, but also of magic used around an underage wizard. So, realistically, there would be no way for the Ministry to tell whether Regulus had really cast the spell, or whether it was a wizard around him.

"I can do you one better," he said, and he raised his wand. " _Lumos_ ," he muttered, and the tip of his wand was suddenly illuminated, as though it were a flashlight.

Nymphadora widened her eyes in amazement. "WOAH!" She said.

Regulus let out a breath of laughter. " _Nox_ ," he muttered, and the light at the end of his wand disappeared.

"Light?" Nymphadora asked, looking at Regulus with sad eyes.

"Sorry, Nymphadora. I can't keep it on for that long," Regulus replied. "Do you want to show me some of your cool magic?"

Nymphadora seemed to perk up. "OK!" She shouted, and with the scrunch of her nose and a quiet _pop_ , her hair was bright pink.

Regulus clapped his hands. "That's really good!" He said.

"LOOK, LOOK!" She shouted, and she changed her eyes from the blue that they had been since Regulus arrived to a bright shade of purple.

"Wow!" Regulus said, unsure how else to react - he wasn't always the best at showing his enthusiasm about things (other than magical creatures, of course).

Nymphadora giggled. "LOOK!" And her nose changed from its normal button shape into a pigs snout.

Regulus sat there for near twenty minutes, clapping every time Nymphadora would change something about her appearance. Eventually, Andromeda descended the stairs and stepped into the living room.

"Ted's not back yet?" She asked, casting a silent Hot Air charm to help dry her hair.

Regulus looked up at her and shook his head. "No, not yet."

Andromeda furrowed her brow and walked to the window that was to the left of the fireplace, peering out. "That's odd..."

"Is everything alright?" Regulus asked, looking up from where Nymphadora had just turned her hair pastel blue.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure everything is fine. Ted's probably just running late..." she gave Regulus a smile of what she hoped would be confidence, and she sat down in the chair beside the couch.

"MUMMY, LOOK!" Nymphadora shouted, and she turned her hair the exact color that was Ted's.

"Very good, Nymphadora," Andromeda said, and she smiled at the little girl.

Nymphadora hurried over to her mum and climbed up onto her lap. Andromeda wrapped her arms protectively around her daughter, smiling lovingly at her. Regulus looked at the two of them, and he found himself wondering what his life would've been like if he and Sirius had grown up with parents as loving as Andromeda and Ted Tonks.

Suddenly, though, his thoughts were broken by a wispy white phoenix. It flew through the window, and landed on the coffee table between the three occupants of the living room. Regulus looked at the phoenix in shock - he had never seen a corporeal Patronus before. Andromeda leaned forward in her seat, clutching her daughter closer to her, a worried look on her face.

Suddenly, the phoenix opened its beak, and out came the booming voice of Dumbledore. "There's been an attack. Ted has been injured. He's in St. Mungo's." And the phoenix disappeared just as soon as it had come.

There was a moment in which none of the occupants knew what to do; they were all still. Even Nymphadora had quieted down. However, Andromeda quickly gained her bearings, and she stood up from the chair in one swift motion.

"I need to get you home," she said, rushing into the kitchen. She turned off the oven with a flick of her wand, passed through the living room, and walked into the entrance hallway of her home.

Regulus stood from the couch, looking at the frantic state of his cousin. Regulus knew that he couldn't go home, for he knew that - if his parents were home - they would probably ask why he had come home early. And he knew that, if they got even the slightest hint that he was lying, they would use the Cruciatus on him without hesitation. Coming suddenly didn't seem like a very good idea; Regulus wished that he had just stayed home.

The idea struck him. "Take me to Narcissa's," he said hastily, following after Andromeda as she rushed upstairs to get Nymphadora's winter coat.

"What?" Andromeda asked, her voice lilted with panic.

"You can't take me home. You have to take me to Narcissa's," he entered his own room and began to pack his things while Andromeda went into she and Ted's room.

"Regulus-" she called.

"I can talk it away, alright? And, trust me, Narcissa is going to be a lot less likely to ask questions than my parents are." He shouted back.

Andromeda appeared in the doorway, she and Nymphadora both bundled up in their winter cloaks. She looked unsurely at her cousin, but he could tell that she was still rather panicky about Ted. "It'll be fine, I can come up with something." He assured her.

Andromeda ceded. "Malfoy Manor, right?"

Regulus nodded and threw his own coat around himself. "Yeah, Malfoy Manor."

"Alright. I need to drop Nymphadora off with someone first, but I'll be back in just a mo', alright?"

Regulus nodded again, and Andromeda disapparated away with the crack. Regulus searched the room to be sure that he had everything, slung his book bag over his shoulder, and descended the stairs. Upon sitting back down on the couch, Regulus allowed himself to think.

Ted had been hurt in an attack. Just based off of the very few things that Regulus knew about Ted Tonks, he had a pretty good idea of just who had attacked him. It had to have been the Dark Lord and his followers. The man that Regulus wanted to work for had attacked Andromeda's husband. 

Do _I want to work for him?_

_Yes, of course I do! So what if he's attacking mudbloods?_

_Ted seemed very nice._

_That doesn't matter! Ted is still a ruddy mudblood!_

_He didn't deserve to be attacked, even if he is a mudblood._

_Yes he did! If the Dark Lord felt that Ted deserved to be attacked, then he deserved to be attacked. I can't question the Dark Lord!_

Regulus heard a crack from upstairs, indicating that Andromeda had returned. "Regulus?!" She called.

"Down here!" Regulus called back.

He heard a set of frantic footsteps crossing the upstairs, descending the staircase, and he looked up just in time to see Andromeda entering the sitting room. "Are you ready?"

Regulus nodded his head and stood from the couch. Andromeda crossed the room in a handful of swift footsteps, gripped his upper arm firmly, and the two of them disappeared with a _crack_. This round of side-along apparation with Andromeda was much more pleasant, seeing as how Regulus had been expecting it. However, this didn't stop him from stumbling on the initial landing.

Andromeda reached out her hands to steady him, and then looked around. "This is close enough, right?" She asked.

Regulus - after getting over the dizziness and nausea - looked around, too. From what Regulus could see, he thought that they must be at least a five minute walk from the Manor. He nodded his head, and Andromeda quickly pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry we didn't get to the full three days," she said.

Regulus hugged his cousin back, though with much less firmness. "It's alright. You have to make sure he's ok, yeah?"

She nodded her head, but she still didn't release Regulus; Regulus got the odd feeling that Andromeda probably felt this her last chance to hug the boy in front of her. So, Regulus didn't protest. He stood there, allowing his cousin to hold him close.

"You must come back again," Andromeda muttered.

Regulus nodded his head against her shoulder - which he had his chin rested upon. Though, he got the feeling that both of them knew that this would never happen again. Regulus could not go back to Andromeda's - ever. Andromeda pulled him a little closer at the realization.

Eventually, however, she released Regulus and looked at him with an expression of hope on her face. "Regulus," Andromeda started, choosing her words carefully, "can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure..." Regulus said, though he was quite unsure.

"Please, before you choose a side, or do anything, I want you to think it over. Think for yourself. I don't want you to tell me anything, because I know that it could very well put you in danger. But, I want you to promise me that you will carefully consider your actions before you commit them. Please."

"I will," Regulus said, though he wasn't entirely sure if he was telling the truth. In a war like the wizarding world was inevitably headed straight into, Regulus knew that there was no way that he would get a choice of what side he wanted to be on. No, he could either be on the side of the Dark Lord, or be dead. There was no in between. Not for him.

"Thank you. Have a good rest of holiday, Regulus. I'll write you."

"You have a good one, too," Regulus said, and he gave Andromeda a tight-lipped smile.

Andromeda disappeared with one final crack, and Regulus was left alone. The walk to Malfoy Manor was nice - it allowed him to think. Think about how much fun he had had with the Tonks's, think about what Andromeda had said, and it allowed him to think about why he could never go back.

Narcissa Malfoy was in the den of Malfoy Manor, composing a letter which would invite Regulus to dinner on 28 December. She was just about to press the hot wax on the envelope with the Malfoy family crest when a knock echoed through the house.

Curiously, she put the stamp down and stood from her chair. It couldn't be Helena or Lucius, for they both knew the spell that would unlock the door. Not only this, but they were both busy; Helena with the Dark Lord, and Lucius with emergency business at the Ministry. Who else could it be, though?

When she opened the door and found her shivering cousin on the front stoop, to say she was shocked would be an understatement. "Regulus, what in the name of Merlin are you doing out in the cold?! Come in!" She stepped out of the way and gestured for Regulus to come inside. "What are you doing here?"

"I was staying at a friends house, but something came up. Can I stay here? Just for a few days?" Regulus asked, his teeth chattering.

"Of course you can stay here! Come along, Regulus, let's get you some hot cocoa," she put a hand on either of his shoulders and led him into the dining room, not even giving a second thought to Regulus's story as to why he had shown up.

Andromeda Tonks entered the ward where Ted Tonks was staying in St. Mungo's. The ward itself was full of bustling medi-witches and medi-wizards, all tending to several different members of the Resistance. Andromeda scanned the beds with her eyes, and when they landed on Ted, she rushed over to him.

"Ah, here she is!" Ted said, a wide grin on his tired-looking face.

"What on earth happened?!" Andromeda demanded, looking her husband over; as far as she could tell, he wasn't missing any limbs.

"Dumbledore sent me an urgent Patronus saying that they needed help. There was an attack in London." Ted explained.

"What?! What happened? Is everyone ok?"

"Everyone is fine, darling. We got there just in time. No one was seriously injured." Ted assured her, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "Is... _he_ , home?" Ted wasn't sure if Andromeda wanted everyone in the ward to know that Regulus had been visiting their home.

Andromeda shook her head. "I took him to Cissy's house. He seemed sure that it would be easier to go there than go back home. I think... I think he was scared."

Ted let out a sigh and shook his head. "Poor kid..." Andromeda nodded her agreement. "And Dora?"

"With your mum."

"Good."

"And, you're sure you're alright?" Andromeda looked him over again, though this time it was just to look for blood or scratches.

He nodded. "Positive. Don't worry, I'm alright."

Andromeda let out a sigh of relief.

Later that very night, Andromeda was reading a book at Ted's bedside when she suddenly realized-

"We didn't get a picture with Regulus," she said, looking at Ted, her brow creased with disappointment and worry.

"Don't worry, love, we'll get one the next time he comes around," Ted assured her, grabbing her hand in his and giving her a reassuring smile.

Andromeda nodded her head slowly, but there was a doubt; a doubt very, very deep down inside of her that was telling her that this was their only chance. And she hadn't taken it.


End file.
